Alright… let’s get the formalities out of the way…
“Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me. Happy birthday, dear Wordsmith, happy birthday to me!”
Now that that’s done…
Good morning, world! I hope these words find you healthy, wealthy, and happy. I’m technically writing this the night before my actual 45th birthday, because I don’t really foresee myself sitting down to do it at any point during the day. So let’s get to it…
Today is the first day that I woke up and felt old. Usually when someone says that, there’s a negative connotation to it. Their body hurts, their health is failing, something along those lines. That’s not the case here. Don’t get me wrong, my back and hips are on fucking fire right now (I desperately need to go see a chiropractor). I feel like a full fledged adult now (mind you, I’m 45 years old. I’ve been an adult for a long fucking time now). Maybe it’s the sudden emergence of my first gray hair or the laundry list of health issues I’ve had to deal with lately. Either way, I fully understand why my dad was beyond content to spend his free time in the house, watching TV.
Speaking of my father, I’m picking up more and more of his habits as I get older. First came the affinity for coffee. It started off innocently, but I’m now at the point where I don’t really think I can function at my highest level without a cup or two. Hell, I kind want a cup right now! (It’s currently 12:15am for context) I’m even getting to the point where I prefer to drink my coffee with less sugar like he did. Next, came the mannerisms. It used to be a joke. I would lightheartedly say that Willis was speaking through me. But now, I think there might be some validity to that. Or maybe I was always this way and now I’m noticing it more. Either way, if you met me in my mid-30’s, you actually met my father. Lucky you.
I’m also coming to the realization that I need to do a better job of limiting people’s access to me. I’m starting to feel like I’m too old to be inundated with the bullshit that some people decide to populate the word with. With that being said, I’m gonna take some time over the next few days to prune my social media. Someone who shall remain nameless would say that I need to completely get rid of it. And while she might have a point, I don’t necessarily think I’m quite there yet. Maybe one day. Baby steps and all.
That’s all I got for you folks today. Thank you in advance for al the birthday well wishes. Peace and love
Man! I haven’t done this in a WHILE! And not for a lack of topics to discuss, purely because I’ve been focused on a multitude of other issues in my life. Hell, it wasn’t that long ago that I decided to really rededicate myself to my writing (and by extension, this blog.) By the way, how y’all like the new URL? Make sure y’all tell your friends to come read something. Thanks!
Normally at this point, I would give y’all a rundown of what’s been going on in my corner of the universe since we last spoke. Honestly, I just don’t feel like doing it, Plus, it’s way too much to go into right now. Maybe we’ll do that another day. So let’s hop right into it, shall we?
I know you’re looking at the title of this post and the accompanying picture and probably thinking, “This dude wrote a blog about a hoodie?” Well, kinda. Maybe a little backstory will make it make sense.
So I bought the hoodie in question a few years ago. It was right after COVID really kicked the world in the teeth and we basically all lived in nothing but pajamas and loungewear. As most of us probably did at that time, I spent a lot of time scrolling social media and buying stuff I probably didn’t really need. It’s not like I was spending my disposable income on going outside and having fun, so I might as well build an impressive collection of hoodies. If you ever get bored, scroll my IG to see it.
But one night, I come across this post with this hoodie that truly spoke to me. BLACK JOY IS REVOLUTIONARY. Even the website name had a powerful message behind it (here’s the link, go support)
So I buy the hoodie and in my mind, it was the most magnificent thing. We as black people have rarely had anything to celebrate or be joyous about in the country. But somehow, some way, we still find a way to be happy. And for people that look at our history in this country, they can’t fathom why. It truly leaves some people flabbergasted that we don’t burn the whole fucking country down. And that’s not to say that we don’t have our moments of rage. Especially recently. Nor does it mean that we don’t have movements that are seen as the polar opposite of black joy.
But on a daily basis, no matter what the universe throws at us, we still find a way to be completely and utterly unbothered. There’s no better example of this than the pockets of blackness on social media. We take absolutely NOTHING serious! Any and everything can be made fun of! And that jovial spirit stands in full defiance of a country that has enslaved, brutalized, murdered, subjugated, and exploited people that look like me since the first slave ships landed on the coast of Western Africa in the late 1400s.
But I digress, we’re not here to have a conversation about Critical Race Theory. At least not today.
For the past 3+ years, this hoodie was my silent protest. I’d proudly wear it whenever and wherever. Black folks would see me out and show their approval. Some less melanated people had a less supportive reaction. But I gave not a single fuck. Thank my dad for that, I swear I hear his voice in my head every time I start talking about some black shit.
Fast forward to present day. We all see what the current administration is doing to our country. And while quite a few of us saw it coming and tried to be the opposition, the majority of the country either didn’t see what was in store (we really don’t know how) or wanted it to happen. Either way, the shit has hit the proverbial fan. Folks fucked around, and now they are finding out. And they’re becoming outraged, and rightfully so. Elected officials are employees of the people. Their job description is to serve the public, not just the wealthy elite. And don’t get me started on what that weird son of a bitch from South Africa is doing. No one voted for his Nazi saluting ass, yet he really does seem to be the guy running the country. He even sold cars to the President on the White House lawn. I tend to think I have a pretty vivid imagination, especially for a writer, but even I couldn’t have come up with a story like this.
Through their outrage over what’s occurring, the pig mentally challenged financially strapped former supporters of the current presidential administration have looked for allies in the very people that they once sought to keep oppressed. And to their credit, most black folks have opted against taking to the streets to voice their disapproval with the status quo. Some have even gone a step further and made sure to carefree they are in the face of what’s happening. Because what can really come of us taking to the streets en masse to show our disdain? In getting upset and raging against the machine? Not. A. Fucking. Thing. It’s exactly what they want. They want us to give them a reason to really bring back the pre-Civil Rights Era of this country. So by sitting this one out and showcasing our happiness in these troubled times, we are truly protesting. In this moment, our black joy is revolutionary.
See what I did there? Until next time, peace and love. And stay revolutionary.
Good afternoon world! I hope this blog finds you in good health and even better spirits. I know its been a while since I’ve shown my face and let the voices in my head have their way with my fingers and keyboard. Normally, I would issue a half-hearted apology and some thin ass excuse as to why I’ve been absent. I’m not gonna do that this time. In all honesty, there’s been quite a few things going on in my life that needed my attention and I didn’t just put my blog on the back burner, I took it off the stove. For that, I sincerely and wholeheartedly apologize. Not so much because I think the world needs to hear what I have to say or that my massive following couldn’t live without me (let me make it clear, I truly love and appreciate anybody that takes the time to read my craziness). This blog is where I come to decompress and I’ve been denying myself that release. I’ve got to do better. But enough about that, let’s get to what brings us together today.
The other day (don’t ask me exactly when because I don’t remember), I was reading a post on my new favorite website, Single Black Male entitled: I’m A Black Woman – Unmarried Without Kids. And as I read, I realized that everything that everything the author was describing, has happened or happens to me so I decided to write about those experiences.
As I’ve said before on numerous occasions, I’m a 32 year old black man that has never been married and has no children. Before we go on, let me dispel some of the assumptions that are automatically cast in my direction when people learn about my marital status and lack of dependents. I am not just getting home from a long prison stretch. I am not “emotionally damaged and unable to love and fully devote myself to a woman”. I don’t “hate kids”. I have not resigned myself to a life as a confirmed bachelor. I am neither gay nor on the “Down Low”. And while there is absolutely nothing wrong with being homosexual, everything and its mama is wrong with a man being on the DL but that’s a conversation to be saved for another day.
The main reason that I am both single and childless to this day is because I have yet to find the right situation. That’s not to say I’ve never had a serious relationship or been in love, quite the contrary. What I’m trying to say is that I haven’t had the right combination of a woman I want to spend my life with and my own readiness to settle down. Hell, over the years, I’ve had more than my fair share of chances to procreate. But that’s not really what I want from my life. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m not really built to just be somebody’s baby daddy.
I find it both completely hilarious and absolutely depressing that more men can’t make the claims as me. What the fuck has happened to our society? I think that’s all I’ve got for today, but I’ll probably revisit this topic at a later day and time. So until we see each other again, peace and love…
Good morning world! I hope this blog finds you in good health and even better spirits. I know some of you (probably most) are looking at the title and thinking, “Is this another poem?” No, its not. Its actually the title of a song by The Weeknd that kinda suits the mood for what I’m here to talk about today.
For those that know me or have been following along, you know I’ve been single for a while. Something like 5 years now. This isn’t really an issue. Of course I would love to be in a relationship, but I want it to be the right relationship, I’m not looking to be with somebody just for the sake of changing my relationship status on Facebook. Because I’m looking for something meaningful in my romantic life, I’ve spent quite a bit of time and exhausted quite a bit of energy making sure I knew exactly what I was looking for in my next relationship. I’ve even put some thought into what I have to offer. Well today, we’re gonna flip the script. This ought to be interesting, to say the least.
First off, I’m shallow. Trust me, this is not a conclusion I came to on my own. I knew I had shallow tendencies, I nitpick about pretty much everything when it comes to my appearance. But it took my best friend to confirm my suspicion. And in the words of my best friend, “You are very looks-driven. Not just about women, about everything. Everything has to have a very meticulous appearance, or you don’t even bother with it.” And she’s right. I’m very particular about how I want the world around me to look. I feel like everything and everyone has a perfect look, a perfect aesthetic. And if that ideal level can’t be reached, I’ve been known to walk away without a second thought. I’m not like Jack Black’s character in Shallow Hall, I’m not gonna automatically disqualify a woman for the slightest “flaw.” Nor am I so delusional that I tell myself that I’m good looking enough to only date supermodels (or women beautiful enough to be supermodels). But I think there has to be a certain level of physical attraction in order for me to pursue a woman. That’s not asking too much, is it? Maybe it is…
Secondly, I’m a flirt. Let me clarify something about this right now. I am not a cheater. If a relationship has degraded to that point, I’d walk away before committing an act of infidelity. With that being said, I will flirt with just about every woman I come into contact. Especially if I find her attractive. I’ve never done it to be disrespectful and if my girlfriend were to say something about it, I would make a concerted effort to reign myself in. But I’m flirtatious by nature, that’s just the way I communicate with women. A lot of women say they have no problem with their man flirting, as long as it doesn’t lead to anything else. But its easy to say that, its a whole lot harder to live by it. But those that really know me, know that the easiest sign that I’m truly interested in a woman is if I clam up around her. If I’m flapping my gums and flirting my ass off, there’s no problem. If I’m acting like a shy little school boy, that’s when you should worry.
Third, I’m an asshole. I know its like the new, hot thing for these little boys to run around and claim to be assholes for whatever trivial ass reason they’ve concocted in their heads. That ain’t me. I hold grudges for decades. My vindictiveness goes from 0 to 100 mph in 2.1 seconds. And once you find the right button to push to get me there, it takes an act of God to get me to come back down. And this isn’t a new development in my life. There was a 4 to 5 year period during the late 90’s to early 2000’s that I got called “asshole” by so many people on a daily basis that I started answering to it like it was my name. I like to think that I’ve mellowed some since I reached 30, I try to make sure that my actions and attitude towards a situation are completely and utterly validated. But, I still have the potential to be the biggest jerk you will ever meet. The first time I heard Runaway by Kanye West, I laughed. I’ve either been guilty of or thought about doing or saying everything he said in that song.
I’m really impulsive. This comes from the fact that I have no responsibilities outside of my own safety and well-being. Because of that, I’m always quick to go shopping for a new pair of shoes or an Express t-shirt that I don’t really need. This is probably the only one of my negative qualities that could be easily and quickly overcame.
I can have a one-track mind, at times. No, this doesn’t have anything to do with sex. If I become focused on something, whether its work or my writing, its hard for me to break away until its completed. This does not apply to TV viewing. I’m just the opposite when it comes to TV.
I hate talking on the phone! This doesn’t mean I won’t call my girlfriend/wife at least once a day to hear her voice, but it does mean that I won’t sit on the phone for hours at a time. I’d rather talk in person. Or at the very least, on Skype or ooVoo. If we’re relegated to communicating by phone, I prefer text messages.
Lastly, I’m a bit of an emotional train wreck at times. This might be the one thing I hate the most about myself. I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve a lot. I love hard. And fast. I hate even harder. And faster. I’ve never really understood why I am this way, which annoys me more.
I think that’s all I have for today. I just wanna say that it truly feels weird to sit here and thoroughly dissect and attack my own character. But someday, there’s gonna be a woman that’s interested in me for more than fashion advice, my writing abilities and sex. And whoever she is, she’ll need to have this information.
Good afternoon world! Hopefully this blog finds you in good health and even better spirits. I don’t really have a lot to say that doesn’t have to do with today’s topic, so let’s get right to it.
So, after being bombarded with all the coverage of “Manti Te’o fake dead girlfriend” story over the past few days and constantly hearing references to Catfish, I decided to watch the movie. I had never heard of this movie up until now. Let me just say that a part of me feels like that might have been the biggest mistake I’ve made in a while, like the last piece of my innocence was violently snatched away. My soul feels violated. If you’re unfamiliar with the movie (as I was), here’s the synopsis from IMDB:
“In late 2007, filmmakers Ariel Schulman and Henry Joost sensed a story unfolding as they began to film the life of Ariel’s brother, Nev. They had no idea that their project would lead to the most exhilarating and unsettling months of their lives. A reality thriller that is a shocking product of our times, Catfish is a riveting story of love, deception and grace within a labyrinth of online intrigue.”
I know that doesn’t really give away a lot, but keep reading.
Now, I know I would never find myself in a situation like the guy from Catfish or Manti. I’m too jaded cautious to allow myself to blindly get caught up like that. I’m good to Google the hell outta somebody long before I even contemplate catching feelings. But, as I’ve said on countless occasions, I’m a die-hard romantic. Even though I knew how the movie was gonna end, I was sitting here hoping and wishing that the girl was gonna be real and they would live happily ever after. That’s why I feel so violated. It takes a lot for a person to put themselves out and open up, to give a piece of your soul to someone and have faith that they won’t mistreat it. And I’m just talking about relationships in general, imagine how much more difficult it is to do it across distance and via electronic communication. That’s gotta be exponentially more difficult and nobody deserves to be victimized like that.
Some of you are probably thinking, “He’s relating his own story to what happened in the movie.” Please believe me, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Like I said, I’m jaded cautious when it comes to affairs of the heart and take time to thoroughly investigate anybody that I let in because I’ve had my heart broken before. But we’ve all had our gullible moments when it comes to our dealings with the opposite sex, especially us men. That’s how we become jaded cautious in regards to our romantic lives in the first place.
But on the other hand, some things are too good to be true and should be treated as such. How many times have you randomly met somebody on Facebook (or Myspace, Twitter, Blackplanet, Migente, etc.) and they were pretty much perfect? Not just perfect for you, but generally considered as perfect? Not only did he fall for the chick, but his brother and friend did too. Where does that happen at? Go ahead and take a second to think about it, I’ll wait…
I’ve only met 2 or 3 women in life that I would say are perfect for me (yes, one of them is the current object of my affection), and I’m pretty damn sure I’ve never met a perfect person. Maybe I’m just not going to the right places. But on the flip side, I wouldn’t want a “perfect” person. I’m far from perfect (don’t tell anybody I said that), so I know I wouldn’t be able to keep perfection satisfied. Or maybe I could, I am the shit…
I think that’s all I have for today, I’m not really up for going into some long diatribe about the perils of meeting someone on the internet. Especially considering that I’m just shy of falling head over heels for somebody that I met online. Don’t want to give that jaded cautious side of me too much to think about. So until next time, peace and love…
Good evening world! I hope this blog finds you in good health and even better spirits! Today’s topic is something that is very near and dear to my heart: tattoos. I have ink, want more ink and love all the ink I have so far! At first I was gonna try and concentrate this entry on a specific issue pertaining to tattoos in our society, but decided against that.
I got my first tattoo as a teenager and was instantly hooked. Like most people, I was apprehensive about getting ink. I was scared it would hurt too much (what’s pleasure without a little bit of pain?), that the ink wouldn’t show up well on my skin, that I would regret them as I got older, I won’t be able to get a job, etc. All my excuses have been shown to be completely unfounded, especially in today’s society where it seems that almost everybody has tats. Its more of a shock to me to see members of my generation that don’t have ink. Almost everybody I know that has a tattoo either has multiple or plans to get more. There’s something about them that is highly addictive. I know what some of you might be thinking, “Your body is a temple.” That’s very true, so what’s wrong with making the temple a little more aesthetically pleasing? If you have a problem with tattoos, are you against any kind of body modification? Do your feelings extend to piercings? What about hair dye, contacts and plastic surgery? I personally feel like people should do whatever makes them happy, as long as its within reason. And its not my place to decide whats within reason, that’s solely up to the individual…
One of the biggest arguments our parents (or at least those that don’t have ink of their own) used to scare us from getting tatted was that ink would make it infinitely harder for us to succeed in the real world. Everybody can’t be a celebrity or athlete, right? That argument is completely valid and utterly baseless at the same time. Let me explain. Having tattoos in places that can be easily covered up will never prevent a person from getting a job. You might not be able to get every job, but you won’t be chronically unemployed either. If you can’t hold down a job, you should think about examining the type of person you are, not the ink you have. But on the flip side, having tattoos in certain areas can hinder you from reaching certain plateaus in life. For example, nobody will ever give Lil’ Wayne a job as the CEO of a company if he were just Dwayne Carter. While you might be able to cover up the majority of his tattoos, what are you gonna do about the ink he has on his face and neck? The first thing you would think when you see him is that he’s a thug or criminal. It might not be true, but who’s really gonna take the time to figure that out? Your first impression is long lasting. That’s the thing I think my generation and those younger than me need to keep in mind. While tattoo acceptance has grown by leaps and bounds in the last 20 years, there are some stigmas and stereotypes that are so ingrained in the public consciousness that they might just be here to stay. But we also need to remember to not judge a book by its cover. Just because a person has tattoos, that doesn’t automatically classify them as a dredge on society. Its a fine line that we need to walk…
As I look back, I have no regrets about my ink except the fact that I don’t have more and that’s something that can be easily fixed. That’s all the rambling I’m gonna do for today. If you have ink or if you don’t, I would love to hear your thoughts and feelings. Peace and love…
Good evening world! I hope this blog finds you in good health and high spirits. As you can see, I’m here to vent about something that really grinds my gears: people complaining about social network sites on those sites! Let me preface this by saying that I have no problem with anybody saying what’s on their mind. The freedom of speech and expression is something that I hold very near and dear to my heart. But some people either need to shut up or shut up when it comes to complaining about social network sites.
We’ve all seen this before: you sign on to Facebook or Twitter and you see someone talking about how much they hate the site and they’re gonna close their account. Personally, I think these people are full of shit and I tend to laugh relentlessly at them whenever I see those posts/tweets. And the reason I laugh is because as much as they complain, you see them back online the next day! So who are they fooling?
Now, I understand some of the issues people have with social networks: its too much drama and bullshit, too many people pretending to be something they’re not, etc. My response to that is look in the mirror to see who’s at fault for what you see. Let me explain that…
The beautiful (and hideous) thing about social networks is the fact that you can mold your experience to fit you. You don’t want to interact with a person? You don’t have to. Don’t like a certain feature? Don’t use it (with the exception of the Timeline on Facebook, that’s pretty much mandatory or will be soon). So I never really understand why people have so many complaints.
That’s pretty much all I’ve got for now, just wanted to get that off of my chest quick. So until next time, peace and love…
Good afternoon world! Hopefully this finds you in good health and even better spirits. I know its been a while since I’ve actually written an entry. Once again, I sincerely apologize. The demands of life sometimes take precedence over what helps me deal with the demands and stresses that consume my life.
Some of you might be looking at the title and thinking that I’ve gotten into some kind of altercation with a person that I’ve had a long-standing issue with. That’s not entirely true, nor is it entirely false. The biggest opponent in my life right now is writer’s block, we seem to always be entrenched in battle of wills. There was a point in time when I seemed to be winning this fight, able to push through the mental roadblocks and get myself to write. I didn’t always deliver my best work while doing this, but its not a problem to go back and make a piece pretty. Now, it seems like I’m definitely on the losing end of this struggle. And the problem isn’t solely not being able to write when I sit down to try, but not having the desire to even try. There are moments when I do seem to catch lightning in a bottle and can produce works of poetry or compose a song that is up to my standards. But just like lightning, those moments tend to be few and far in between. Also, it recently seems as if I can only get myself in the mood to write if I’m doing something related to church or God but that’s a whole other conversation that we’ll save for another day.
I’m starting to have that creeping feeling that I’m in danger of losing my lyrical voice to some extent. Like I’ve said before this scares the living daylights out of me. For those that know me or have taken the time to read this blog, you know that of all the ways I can define myself, being a writer is the one I’m most proud of. And for it to once again feel like its being taken away from me (even if only partially) is scary as hell. I still have dreams of being a 75 year old man, sitting in a rocking chair, dropping verses on my grandchildren in between catnaps. That’s not to say that I have an issue with using my talent as a lyricist to glorify and uplift the kingdom of God, but writing is the way I deal with the issues in my life that I’m uncomfortable discussing with another person. If I can longer find relief in pouring my most guarded emotions and fears into a verse, how will I ever find solace?
Just like 2 years ago when I had these same feelings, I’m sure it will pass and I’ll find my temporarily lost voice and continue to write well into the twilight years of my life. But right now, as I’m sitting here writing this, this feels like the end of a huge chapter in my life. I can’t help but be a little afraid of that. And it doesn’t help that I’ve set this extremely lofty goal of putting together a collection of my work and trying to get it published. The number I set of pieces I wanted to include was set at 100 because I felt that would be a good sampling of my talent. As of right now, I only have 67 completed pieces that I would include in my book. My best friend told me that I was aiming a little too high by stating that I wanted 100 verses in my book and suggested that I shoot for somewhere around 75. I completely agree with her, but even completing another 8 pieces (which I have already started writing 5 or 6 of) seems like a daunting task. I just don’t know what to do.
Thank you for taking the time to indulge and entertain my irrational ranting and rambling. until next time, peace and love…
Good afternoon world! I meant to give y’all another tidbit to chew on a few days ago, but this has been a really crazy week for me. I am truly sorry. But as you can see by the title of today’s entry, we got a lively conversation on our hands! Hopefully, I’ll get some kind of dialogue going. I doubt it, but its nice to wish…
Now everyone has been out in public and seen a kid cut a fool on their parents. They scream, whine, pout and throw things. Sometimes they even get bold enough to use foul language. How many times have you seen this happen and roll your eyes, shake your head and walk off thinking to yourself, “I would beat the brakes off of his/her little bad ass!” Don’t lie, we’ve all wanted to interject on these episodes and deliver a swift ass kicking to the child. Maybe even the parent. But how would you feel if you were the parent in that situation? If your kid was cutting a fool in the middle of Wal-mart, would you welcome some stranger’s opinion of how you should deal with them?
Now, I’m not writing this to say that parents shouldn’t tear off in their kid’s asses when it is necessary. I personally think that if you’re kids step out of line, its your duty as a parent to do whatever is in your power to put them back in place. Sometimes you’re able to do that with stern words. But there are other times when a stiff pop in the mouth is required. I’m writing this to say that I think we, as members of society, should be more understanding of other people’s situations. Everybody doesn’t believe in spanking their kids. That’s their choice. But quit walking around, looking down your nose at them and talking about what you would do. Because I’m willing to bet that if any of us were placed in the same situation, we would freeze in our tracks. Especially when you consider the way the law looks at corporal punishment. When I was kid, if I went to school with a bruise, my teachers deemed it the result of me just being a kid. Nowadays, these teachers are programmed to overreact to the slightest injury that doesn’t occur on school grounds. In our somewhat misguided attempt to protect all kids from being abused, we’ve taken away a parent’s most effective tool for ensuring that their children behave.
This doesn’t just affect the parent’s ability to discipline their kids, it can also affect a teacher’s ability to retain order in the classroom. Especially when it comes to teachers that deal with small children. I remember being a kid and watching my peers act out at school and all the teacher had to say was, “I’m going to call your parents.” Everybody sat their ass done, purely out of fear of having mom or dad come up to the school and beat our asses in the hallway, within earshot of our classmates. How embarrassing is that? Not only do you get dragged out of class by an upset parent, but you get a whooping on the spot and have to deal with being teased for the rest of the day. And its not like you could really do anything to defend yourself against the other kids, because you were already in trouble and didn’t want to compound whatever was waiting for you when you arrived home by getting into a fight.
I can just imagine an elementary school teacher trying to use that tactic on today’s kids. Little Bobby is running around, terrorizing his classmates. His teacher, Ms. Adams, pleads with Bobby to take his seat to no avail. Finally, at her wit’s ends, Ms. Adams threatens to call Bobby’s mother if he doesn’t settle down. And I could just see Bobby responding to Ms. Adams by saying, “Bitch please! She ain’t gonna do nothing!” What is poor Ms. Adams supposed to do with unruly ass Bobby? Now imagine if she had 5 kids like that, or 10. The teacher would end up spending more time trying to get a handful of kids to behave instead of trying to educate those that have some home training.
The biggest thing I think needs to happen is that fear needs to be re-established in today’s kids. I was afraid of doing anything too wild because I wasn’t sure how my dad would react. I caught a vicious ass beating for “shit” in his general presence after dropping something on my foot when I was an adolescent, how would he react to me calling a female a bitch? I remember getting punched like I was a grown man in a street fight for coming home drunk once, how would he respond to having to come bail me out of jail? These were the kind of thoughts that ran through my head as a kid whenever I thought about doing something I didn’t have any business doing. Maybe if more kids thought their parents might flip out over the small stuff, they would be scared of doing anything that would warrant that kind of response.
That’s all I got for today, or at least for right now. I might be back later with another topic. But until then, peace and love…
In My Own Words... 