Life is funny sometimes. I’m not talking side-splitting laughter funny, but it definitely has it’s comedic moments. Let me see if I can explain this a little better.

When I was a kid, I had this vivid idea of what my life would be like when I got older. And it was pretty simple, I wanted to rule the world (cue the sinister music and the evil laugh). As I got older, I realized that my earlier dreams weren’t exactly obtainable (that didn’t stop me from wanting the same thing, though). So I set my sights on more realistic goals. I’m kinda getting off of my original point, but just stay with me. Now here I am, a full grown adult (I got facial hair and everything to prove it), I find myself re-dreaming those childhood dreams. Just not on as large of a scale though. And that kinda humors me. How many of us can say we are doing exactly what we wanted to do when we were kids? How many of us are really happy with the lives we lead? And if we could sit down and talk to the 5th grade versions of ourselves, would they be happy with what we’re doing? To borrow a phrase from the movie Mr. Deeds, “I think if we ran into the 5th grade versions of ourselves, they would beat the crap out of us and put gum in our hair.” And that is SO true! We pose and posture like we’re happy with the crap we have to deal with on a regular basis, but deep down inside, I think the majority of us are a cat’s whisker away from going postal! So here’s what I want everybody who reads this to do (yeah I’m talking about all 5 of you). Make it a point to do the things that YOU want to do. I don’t care what it is. If it makes you truly happy, be like Nike and just do it! Maybe if we all do that, life and the world would be a little better. Now wouldn’t that be funny?

I was listening to the radio the other day (actually this was a while ago and I just decided to write about it) and the morning radio personalities were talking about an alarming trend that is sweeping our nation. That trend would happen to be single parents. Well, actually they were talking about single mothers, but my father raised me and I’ve met some other single fathers over the years so I know there are some single parent homes were the parent stands up to take a piss. My first issue with this is why don’t those fathers that are raising their kids by themselves (for whatever reason) get any credit? I know it might be rare to see a woman run off on her child but it does happen more often than most people think. It’s not like we’re talking about a white running back in the NFL or something. I know the common situation is a man and woman lay down and 9 months later a child is born and before the doctor can smack the baby’s ass, the guy is making tracks, but you got to look at both sides of coin, you know what I mean?

But enough about that for now…

What is the deal with our society being okay with the concept of a single parent? Not to say that it’s a bad thing for a kid, sometimes it can be the best, but it should not be so fucking acceptable! I was raised to be a man, to recognize when I’m able to handle something and to take responsibility for my actions. I know the kind of person I am and I know I’m at least a year away from being ready to take on the responsibilities that come with raising a child! Not to say that I’m not mature because I happen to think that I’m very mature. I’m way too self-involved to put another person before myself, and that’s what it takes to be a parent. And I’m okay with that for right now, which is why I’m in no rush to change that part of my life. I’m not saying that to make the fact that I’m self-aware sound like a big fucking achievement, we all should know ourselves inside and out, but I’m saying it because it seems like some of our men (and women too) don’t look closely at the person in the mirror before they do certain things. And everybody remembers in health and/or sex education class (I had to take them both) that blood rushes to the erogenous zones of the body during stimulation. Well, that blood must be rushing from the brain because some of these folks must lose all of their common sense and reasoning abilities when they get horny! But let me put it into a simple math equation for y’all. I asked my father for this upcoming figure so he could have embellished just a bit: it takes an average of $25,000 a year to raise a child alone. That’s not counting when they turn 18, head off to that big ass, expensive school you want them to go to, and call home for money every other week, and sometimes every week. But think about it. If you could keep yourself from having that child with a piece of latex rubber that costs anywhere from 58 cents (12 pack box) or $1, isn’t that a better alternative to 18 years of being broke and dealing with a person you can’t stand? Now, I understand that sometimes things can happen and I’m not a parent (though I have had my fair share of close calls over the years) so please forgive me if my thinking is a bit crass and disrespectful. I don’t mean anything by it. I’m just trying to get a better understanding of what is going on. Our society used to be one that was centered on the nuclear family. For y’all that don’t know what that is, it’s simply a term that used to describe a typical family. Which would be mom, dad, a child or children and maybe even a dog or a cat. Somewhere between the 1950’s and now, we’ve kinda lost sight of that. It seems like nowadays, fathers and husbands have been replaced with baby’s daddies and mothers and wives gave way to baby’s mommas. Those terms should not be acceptable today if they weren’t acceptable when the previous generations were growing up. Back then, the only time you saw a single mother or father was by way of death or divorce. And even then, if the other parent wasn’t dead, they were around and civil towards each other for the most part. But that thinking seems to have gone the way of the Dodo. It’s common to hear somebody complaining about the drama that is going on between them and their child’s other parent like it’s nothing. We need to break that cycle! And what’s up with these babies spitting out babies?! It blows my mind that nowadays you can have a 15-year-old mother with 2 kids, her mother is barely out of her 30’s and grandma is just now kicking on 50’s door! So I believe part of the blame for the perceived destruction of the nuclear family lies with these young girls who don’t protect themselves and sometimes they fall for the dumb shit that these little boys be pumping in their ears. I for one am here to tell you that there are condoms on the market today (and they’ve been around since I was 15 or 16) that you can hardly feel during sex. So that myth about it doesn’t feel the same with a condom on is some utter bullshit! And even if it don’t feel as good, wear a condom if you know in your heart you’re not ready for a kid. Sorry to blow the whistle fellas, but it’s about damn time we step up to the plate and act like the men we claim to be!

Now here’s the part of the conversation on the radio that blew me away. Of the 1.5 million babies born in the US in 2004, 75% (that’s 3 out of every fucking 4!) were born to unwed mothers. Now take a second and guess how many were born to teenage mothers. Give up? Only 20% of those babies born out of wedlock were mothered by a teen. Now if you want to do the math, that means 15% of the babies born that year were from a teenage mom. Think you can guess what age group had the largest percentage of unwed births? Go ahead and take a second to think about it. Okay, time’s up. How many of you guessed that women between the ages of 25 and 29 delivered the highest percentage of babies born out of wedlock? That’s kinda scary! The reason that’s kinda scary to me is because in my experience with single mothers (it is a bit limited because I tend to avoid single mothers unless they are extraordinary women like one in particular. I ain’t saying no names though), they tend to be jaded towards men because of what the last one did.

Which leads me to my last topic…

What the fuck is up with women punishing all men for what one little boy did? I’m a good man. I’m one of those rare men who can be his woman’s best friend and lover. I’m the guy that doesn’t mind going shopping with his woman (as long as you don’t make me hold a purse. That ain’t gonna fly around here!), I don’t mind cooking or cleaning up so my woman can go out with her girls and have fun, as long as she’s willing to return the favor. When I’m in a serious and committed relationship, I’m as faithful as they come. The most I’m gonna do is go out to the club, dance a little and maybe even flirt a little. But I will always cut my self off before shit gets out of hand. And if for some reason I don’t, I quickly and proudly announce that I have woman at home. I understand that not all men are like me. I understand that there are some 2-legged dogs running wild in our nation. But ladies, you can’t blame the next man for last one’s indiscretions and mistakes. Now, men do it too sometimes, but seeing as how I ain’t trying to lay up next to another hairy ass body and rub nut sacks, I’m gonna focus on the fairer sex right now. It’s okay to be hurt if you get cheated on. Hell, something might be wrong with you if you’re not. But you can really let a good thing slip right through your fingers if you let yourself remain hung up on what that punk ass dude did to you. There are quite a few men in the world that operate on a similar wavelength as me (I’m a completely unique individual, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a carbon copy of me), but some of you women are fucking it up, seriously! Now I know, y’all get hit on just about every minute of every day and it can get a bit tedious, but take the time differentiate the real men from them fake ass thugs and wanna-be playas. So please, the next time you’re out and a guy approaches you with dignity, respect and class, return the favor. And if something becomes of that chance meeting, let that man have a clean slate. Don’t dog him out like you might have gotten done.

One more thing before I go and I got to aim this one at the ladies as well…

I’m tired of having to say this but, quit judging men by what you see! Good men are indeed all around you. You pass them on the streets, in the malls or in the halls at school or work. Most of them you can’t see because you don’t know what a good man really looks like. He usually isn’t flashy enough or rich enough to turn your heads. He might not wear a suit and drive a Lexus. He might not have “a body like Arnold with a Denzel face”. But, as you mature, you should realize that it’s better to find someone who’s got your back than someone who turns your head. A good man doesn’t agree wholeheartedly with everything you say. He doesn’t just tell you what you want to hear and do the opposite. He doesn’t declare how sensitive, sweet, caring, sincere he is (he won’t have to because it shows). He has his own opinions and you may clash, but he doesn’t have to degrade you to prove he’s right. He even admits at times to being wrong, especially if you are willing to do the same. A good man is not going to meet every item on your checklist, nobody is gonna meet every item on your checklist. He is human and his frailties and faults are mixed in with all of his wonderful, strong attributes. He needs your love and respect. He needs to feel that you don’t live to “catch” him doing something wrong so you can declare, “Aha! I knew you were a dog!” A good man doesn’t necessarily give you a huge birthday or Valentine’s gift. He shows his love in the ways that are comfortable for him. Don’t judge him by TV standards. No one is living that fairy tale for real. You’ll miss out on your own fairy tale by buying into the myth that all men are no good. It’s just not true.

Peace and love!

One day you’re listening to the radio and you hear about a small village in India where some villagers have died suddenly, of a flu that has never been seen before. 3 or 4 people are dead, and they’re sending some doctors over to investigate it.

You don’t think much about it, but a few days later, you hear another radio spot about this mysterious flu. Only now it’s not 3 villagers who are dead, but 30,000. People are fleeing from this disease. By Monday morning, it’s the lead story.

And it’s not just India, it’s Pakistan, and they say this “mystery flu” is spreading further. The President says that he and everyone are praying and hoping that things will improve. But everyone’s wondering how they’re going to contain it. That’s when the President of France makes an announcement that shocks Europe. He is closing their borders. No flights from India, Pakistan or anywhere affected by this disease will be allowed into the country.

That night you are watching CNN before going to bed. Your jaw hits your chest when you hear that a man is lying in a Paris hospital dying of the mystery flu. It has come to Europe. Panic strikes. So far, no one has survived this disease. Britain closes it’s borders, but it’s too late. The disease has hit Southampton and it’s spreading.

On Tuesday morning the President of the United States makes the announcement that all flights from Europe and Asia have been cancelled. No one from the affected countries can enter the USA until they’ve found a cure. Instantly the nation is plunged into an unbelievable fear. People are dreading it hitting the USA.

It’s Wednesday night when the announcement is made. 2 women in Long Island are dying from the disease. Within days it sweeps across the country. People are working around the clock trying to find an antidote. Nothing is working. And then all of a sudden the news comes out. The code has been broken! A cure has been found. A vaccine can be made. All they need is some blood from somebody who hasn’t been infected, and so everyone is asked to do one simple thing, go to your hospital and have your blood type taken.

It’s late that night when you and your family arrive at the hospital, and there’s already a line of people stretching far down the street. Nurses and doctors are poking fingers and taking blood and putting labels on it. Eventually, they take you, your wife and kid’s blood type and ask you to wait there until they call your name, then you can go home. So you sit down and wait. Suddenly a man comes running out of the hospital screaming. He’s yelling a name and waving a clipboard. And your son tugs on your jacket and says, “Daddy, that’s me.”

Before you know it, they’ve grabbed your boy. They think his blood is the right type. 5 tense minutes later, an old doctor walks up to you and says, “Your son’s blood type is perfect.” It’s clean, it is pure and we can make the vaccine. As the word begins to spread down the line, people are screaming and laughing and crying. The doctor pulls you and your wife aside and says, “We didn’t realize that the donor would be a minor and we need you to sign a consent form.” You begin to sign and then you see that the number of pints of blood to be taken is empty. “H-h-h-how many pints?” you ask. And that is when the old doctor’s smile fades. “We had no idea it would be a little child. We weren’t prepared. We need it all!”

“But… you don’t understand. He’s my only son!”

“We are talking about the world here. Please sign.”

“But can’t you give him a transfusion?”

“If we had clean blood we would. Please, will you please sign?”

In numb silence, you sign. He asks if you’d like a moment with him. Could you walk back to that room where he’s saying, “Daddy? Mommy? What’s going on?” Could you take his hands and say, “Son, your mommy and I love you and we would never let anything happen to you that didn’t just have to be.” And when that old doctor comes back in and says, “I’m sorry, we’ve got to get started. People all over the world are dying.” Could you leave? Could you walk out while he is saying, “Dad? Mom? Why…why have you forsaken me?”

Next week, when they have the ceremony to honor your son, some people sleep through it, and some people don’t even bother to come because they have better things to do. Some people come with a pretentious smile and just pretend to care. Would you want to jump up and say, “EXCUSE ME MY SON DIED FOR YOU! DON`T YOU EVEN CARE? DOES IT MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?”

Maybe God wants to say that too! “MY SON DIED FOR YOU! DOES IT MEAN NOTHING? DON`T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I CARE?”

Father, seeing it from your eyes should break our hearts. Maybe now we can begin to comprehend the great love you have for us. So that’s the gospel in a nutshell! Now you can either spread it…or ignore it. I hope this touched your heart as much as it touched mine. If not, hopefully it will give you something to think about. One Love.

There is no way on God’s beautiful, green Earth that I won’t get a response on this one.

Recently, I was having a conversation with some friends and the topic of disciplining one’s children came up. Now I’m not a parent, but just like everyone, I have an opinion on the subject.

I believe that a child deserves to learn right from wrong at the earliest age of comprehension. And thats a lot earlier than most people think. Children as young as 5 or 6 months understand the concept of “no”. But sometimes “no” just ain’t enough. That’s when a firm tagging of the hindquarters comes into play. Now, I’m not saying beat your babies like they’re adults. That’s abuse. And I’m not saying knock your child around anytime they do something wrong. That’s extreme. What I am saying is, teach your children how to act before they go out in public.

When I was younger, my father made sure I knew who was boss. If I cut up at home, I got my ass busted. If I cut up in public, he found interesting ways of making sure I knew I was out of line. There is one instance that comes to mind. I was about 5 or 6 and we were in the grocery store. As we walked down the aisle, something caught my attention. Just like any child I begged and pleaded for what I wanted. When my numerous requests were turned down, I did the only logical thing a child can do. I threw a temper tantrum in the middle of the aisle. My father asked me nicely to get up and follow him, and of course, I didn’t. So he walked to deli section, asked for a cup of cold water and came back and threw it in my face. Everybody has had cold water thrown upon their face unexpectedly, so we all know how I reacted. Once I came back to my senses, I got up and followed my father to the checkout line and we left. Obviously, that made an impression. And it goes without saying that was the last temper tantrum I threw in public.

But back to my subject…

We need to find ways to instill in our children that kind of discipline. Our children need to fear us. I’m not saying that your children should walk around on eggshells in fear that you might snap and kill them, but they need to understand that there is a line that shouldn’t be crossed in every situation and environment. That’s what helps them to become adults that understand that is a line that shouldn’t be crossed in every situation and environment.

I’ll use myself as an example. I’m 29 years of age (soon to be 30). I’m respectful when the situation calls for it (another thing my father taught me was to show no respect when none is being shown to you), I’ve never been in any major trouble with the law (that’s because my father made sure I knew that I would sit in jail because he wouldn’t bail me out), and I assume responsibility for my own actions.

I’m not saying that I’m perfect (at least not right now) nor am I saying that my father was perfect parent. But my father made sure that he put “the fear of God” in me. I knew not to do anything that my father wouldn’t approve of me doing, solely because I didn’t want to face the repercussions of my actions. And that’s what children need today! You don’t have to always put your hands on your children to make them feel your presence. At some point in time, it should only take a look. But it might take you some years and few ass beatings to get to that point.

So in closing, don’t be afraid to put your hands on your children! It might be what’s best for them!