Thoughts That Are Scratching In My Head

This was the roughest term since I have renewed my academic journeys.  I never felt comfortable in my American History class and my Critical Thinking class, which I expect to blast through, never left the launch pad.  Somehow, I managed a “B” in both classes, and am looking forward to figuring out what classes I am going to take for spring.  In other news, I am also a certified United States Amateur Boxing Federation (USABF) trainer, so if anyone wants me to get them ready for a boxing match, I am available!  My girlfriend will likely be my first pupil, and I am sort of excited about getting her going.

I took a couple of spills on my bike last week… one the first, I got a nasty wound below my left knee.  It was (and still is) painful in the way that superficial wounds can be painful.  Even the brush of my pant leg is enough for the wound to let me know, “You don’t have any skin covering this area”.  The other fall was, and is, more substantial.  I took bad fall near the downtown library.  Not only was I sore, but I had a hard time of “getting it together”.  Yeah, I know… I should have prolly went and got looked at, but hey, I had my helmet on and I am as up to speed as I can expect to be.

Nebraska and I have started training together.  It is a good opportunity to practice working with a client.  One thing that I will have to work on for sure is how I speak to a client.  My tendency to be flip with people I know vs. how I plan on being with a client is a little bit of a contrast with how I am with someone who I thought I was familiar with...

The other day me and a co-worker were talking about nothing.  I can’t recall the particular thread of the conversation, but seemingly out of nowhere he suggested that, “I write a book”, ostensibly about whatever we were talking about.  It was one of the best indirect compliments that I can recall getting from a person, though there have been others that are right up there with that.  So far, I have enjoyed my decision to move to Omaha, no reservations or second guessing.  This is a feeling that I have had since my first visit to town, when I had to fill out my paperwork for housing.  Now, from an empty apartment, I have gone to where I am sitting on a couch with a Japanese Chin, who has loved me from my first appearance in her life, snoozing peacefully, as I sit here typing this and listening to a podcast through my JBL speaker.  Things could be better, but not by much!!

THE GHOST

A few years ago I went out on what was the best date of my life.  Everything about the evening had that whimsical touch of romance, so much so that it could have been a scripted Hallmark movie!  

It was a warm, early fall evening.  We met in the Old Market and I was immediately taken with her.  She really was stunning, looking far less stressed as she was on our initial encounter at the Med Center in Midtown.  I recall her brief nervousness being undone by my enthusiasm.  I was not only impressed with her, but by how “perfect” the evening was and how right our simple date was going, and that it eventually ended with a sweet, tender yet simple kiss, as well as a vow to meet again soon.

We would get together for another simple and elegant date.  It was memorable for her thoughtfulness, and her chance to do a little tour guide of Omaha.  After two months of regularly making time for one another, there was talk of spending even more significant time together, riding to Indiana and Detroit, and from there, who knows?  Then, it happened.

I will need readers to bear with me when I say “it”.  There was never any catastrophic events, no emotional outburst, none of the typical disappointments that usually leads to sudden stops in a budding relationships.  No hidden relationships that suddenly explode unto the scene via a Telenovela-like coincidence.  As far as I knew, we had spent a wonderful weekend, including a sleep-over and breakfast at her place.  I had met her near-adult children (a 17-year old boy and a younger teen girl… she has and adult son that I never met), and I knew of her oldest son but I never met him, as he did not live at home.  So when she had dropped me back at my apartment, I had no idea of what was to come.  

There has been a time where I was quite a character with regard to relationships with women.  Because I figured that once I mentioned to a potential new “Miss What’s Happening”  that I have 3 girls WITH 3 different girls, that details would not be necessary!  But as crappy as I have been, there were some things, not unlike the honor that theives are said to have amongst themselves, that I not only have not done, but would not do.  Like ghosting.

For those unfamiliar with the term, ghosting, according to Google Search, is when a person stops all contact with a person after a few dates.  Though I did think that we had safely made it through the period of uncertainty where you don’t know if you are a couple or not, the sudden stop with communication was bracing. She was an objectively beautiful-looking woman, a good cook, not to mention thoughtful and caring.  We had a lot in common… or so I thought.  So why is this person a topic that is currently ciculating in my thoughts?

I don’t remember what specifically caused me to delete her from my phone… but she has never deleted my number from hers.  Over the past three years, she has occasionally sent me text messages that she saw me riding my bike … never giving me a hint of where she saw me. But she sent another message recently, informing me that she saw me cycling again… and that she lives not far from my old apartment… and that she still remembers where I work.  Which is something that I find very discomforting.

STANDING ON THE THRESHOLDS OF THE UPS AND THE DOWNS

TACTICAL

October 3rd marked my four-year anniversary here in Omaha.  By any measure, it has been a good fit for me in every area of my life.  More than simply being happy, I am at a level of contentment that is the rival of any period of my adulthood.  That said, the installation of a new fuel source for my motivation to strive towards my goal will continue.

I thought about discussing why I chose Princess to be the focus of what I will call “my two minute-hate” and not Nebraska (with the detente between Nebraska and myself undergoing a recent thaw notwithstanding).  But for purposes owing more to our history and connection to one another, she wouldn’t have been a good “Goldstein”, anyway.  Which brings me to …

The gratefulness that I have for Ken and Beth and their “surprise insistence” that I visit with my Dad only grows the more that I reflect upon it. By “surprise”, I already knew that visiting my Dad was part of visiting the Motor, but as to what made it important for them ended up making it important for me.  The visit took me back to when I made it through Air Assault school and my Dad drove down to Fort Campbell to watch me get my pin.  That was a special moment between us, and for him to see me doing well and in good company, well, that was a moment that was another special moment in its own way.  Thanks guys!

I’M STANDING ON THE THRESHOLD OF THE UPS AND THE DOWNS

Another thing that was symbolized by visiting with my Father was my ability to listen to people who really have MY best interest at heart.  This is a different from someone who wants what they think is best for you, which is often skewed by their own prejudices.  It is a trait that I have had to develop since my injury was confirmed.  The whole notion of “who can I trust?” is an important part of choosing who it is that I can rely on for honest opinion, and not their personal bias.  So it happened that people with whom I place implicit trust in, felt that I should, against my own judgment, see my Father while I was back home, however brief, and let him know that I love him.  Talk about priceless!

One of the reasons that the “what’s my motivation” question has the prominence that it has recently is due to the scheduled review of my life mission and its scope.  Recent developments has brought new urgency to my goals and would alter the grand vision of my long-term future.

The position that I want at the Fitness club where I am employed only requires an associate degree as qualification.  Had I already obtained my credits, I’d be working in that job NOW. So a sense of urgency has presented itself as it has at no other time during my journaling.  I cannot afford myself a leisurely pace, just as I cannot risk a mistake made in haste.  For instance, I have been worried that should I take a full-load of classes at Metro, that I would slip and possibly fail a course.  Not only would there be academic repercussions, but financial ones as well.  But you know what..?  Without daring, nothing great has ever been accomplished.  And for me, to have come from where I came from seven years ago, the reaching of full employment and no longer being on disability would be a great achievement, to say nothing of obtaining my bachelor’s degree.

What are the stories that you have told yourself about your life, your fates?  Whether it be in romance, material wealth, professional goals, what stories have you told yourself about the highs and lows of your life?  Have you been knocked off track by choices that you realized after the fact were questionable and that the signs were evident beforehand??  Because of the stories I have told myself about my life, the importance of forbearance in my decision-making cannot be understated. Not surprisingly, I have long sought a encompassing philosophy for myself, and through which I would live a fulfilling life.

The Jon Gruden quote, “It’s not the right way because it’s my way, but it is my way because it’s the right way”, has been in my thoughts since I left Mookie Dee.  I don’t really “question” myself… at least not the way others do.  For instance, I stand on my “Rules To Live By” and form my value judgments accordingly.  They shape and outline my life’s approach and I find the answers to my journey in my life’s most persistent questions.

In my relationships and personal interactions I think of myself as considerate.  I don’t make a choice that is most favorable or advantageous to me, but the decision that I can be most responsible for, the one with which the consequences are those that I can live with.  And I also think that this is a universal consideration that is taken in all personal relationships, so I do not believe that this is a quality that is unique to me.  In my mind, the key story that I tell myself about my life hinges on this point.

In my mind, this is a measure of a person’s character.  There is no reason to assign a specific trait or to define what exactly is the particular issue or how this development relates to our relationship.  “Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get — only with what you are expecting to give — which is everything.” -Katherine Hepburn.  Anyone who chooses to prioritize the things in life that is important or a priority to them over you cannot be a person with whom you can expect much from in a relationship.  So whenever I encounter such a person, I don’t expect much from them.  Ever.          

Because of the nature of my injury, being able to trust that a person isn’t trying to take advantage of me is THE determining factor of those who are close to me in my life.  Without exception, if I have to wonder about the motivations of a person…

Since I knew of both Ken and Beth’s intent, I had to surrender to their judgement.  And the reason that I could do that was the trust that I have in them.  Their motivations were unimpeachable, their supporting arguments valid.  With so much committed to the executive functions of my life, the energy to think through social functions are limited.  But with most of my life spent recognizing and celebrating my introversion, I feel prepared and capable of living independently, and doing so happily.

Contentment is within reach.  When I meet with my counselor for school I will find out how fast I can finish my stay at Metro Community College.  I will worry myself about my bachelor’s degree later… it is on my life path and my future includes working toward reaching that goal.

Much of my future revolves around making sure I am on the path of my choosing.  I want the things that are important to me to be relevant and a priority in my life.  Without that, then everything I have done to this point will be for naught.  Relationships, the people I have allowed to be “that person” in my life, I believe, has been my sticking point.

...AND NOW WE FALL UPON THE DARKEST OF THE WOOD

ALTITUDE CLIMBING

This is going to be a tactical entry… maybe even a long-range planning brainstorming session.  For what it is worth, I feel comfortable with my ability in my Algebra class, leading me to wonder if I need a slower pace to keep up, since on the 2nd go ‘round, the stuff comes easier to me.  Or perhaps, I need to simply work harder than I have been.  That idea of hard work and all the effects that are associated to it, encapsulated by a new phrase, “Embrace the suck” (used by the military), has always had a particularly keen resonance with me.  It also plays no small part in why I would rather be in my neo-Quixotic pursuit alone than partnered with someone who is looking for what is “owed” them by life.

State ended up winning the Big Ten Championship by beating the Ohio State Buckeyes, and you KNOW that I was extremely happy.  But the thing that added to my enjoyment and savoring of the win was the way my co-workers and club members showed their appreciation for my happiness!  That is something that had heretofore been unique to only my blogging persona and the friends I have made out here.  While it was in a sense a new experience for me, indirectly I have prepared for how I would respond to such moments, by making a practice of being gracious and appreciative in ALL things, so that when something major happens, I am going to be prepared for the situation.  And that is how I was able to deal with my latest bout of depression.

As one of the expected by-products of my condition, dealing with depression has been one of the most privately held issues that I have had to cope with in blogging.  In many ways, depression spurred me to begin blogging, as I am self-described as a social introvert.  Nebraska can certainly attest to my disdain for company, and I would think that the lack of mentions of her or Princess would confirm that I am not sitting around pining away for another person to share my space with.  So loneliness is something that I feel has been “solved for”, and that it was not a source of what I felt for the past few weeks.

The victory by the Spartans undoubtedly did more for me than anyone else could in my quadrant of the human galaxy.  See, the game represented the kinds of things that I expect of myself and of others who would be a part of my life, winning and being victorious in a memorable fashion.  Meritocracy does still matter and triumphs, but you have to believe in your methodology and be strong enough to see things through to their conclusion.

LIVING IN THAT MOMENT

I was thinking of how I began to withdraw from social contact and one of the driving forces was the inability of other people to “see things” in the world.  Not as I see them, but their inability to look through the superficial layer of systems and draw their own conclusions.  That should be understandable, as I am nothing if not a mixer and (ab)user of metaphors and that hopefully hints at my willingness for a deeper understanding of my existence.  Given how much I have been influenced by the books I have read, some of which discussed “the purpose of things”, both in the concrete and the abstract, this admission would should not be surprising.  Though most of those who have continued to read my journal do understand this trait of mine, IRL, a lot of what I hope is expressed through my patois unfortunately gets “lost in the wash”.

 When I find myself twisting in the existential angst that is my bouts of depression, I wonder about what it would be like if there was “a someone who was that someone” for me to call upon.  Usually, I summarily dismiss the idea and it usually brings about the end of my descent.  See, I understand that depression is a condition that is unique to those afflicted with it and for people to deny it place as a disease (lookin’ at YOU Scientologists!!) simply are ignorant of facts.  Depression has been observed in animals and while there are those who do make a crutch of the word, it is not something that is merely “a feeling based on chemicals” that can be corrected by a constant change in attitude.  That is the type of bias that leads people to think that homosexuality is a curable disease and hold fast the fears of miscegenation.  But in many communities, depression is still seen as a disease that afflicts only people in a certain socio-economic class, and people who display certain characteristics and chief among them is an inability to deal with “first-world problems”.  Still, it is ignorance of the highest level to say that depression is nothing more than a person seeking attention.  In fact, it could be ignorance that makes depression such a scourge… as I was saying, there are elements in some social communities where depression is seen at best, as a weakness and at worst, is greeted with denial.

“Nature shows that with the growth of intelligence comes increased capacity for pain, and it is only with the highest degree of intelligence that suffering reaches its supreme point.”  Arthur Schopenhauer

While I substitute “awareness” for intelligence (because that further ingrains the bias toward the disease), I don’t think it is surprising that in self-aware animals that depression can be seen.  There has to be a greater sense of one’s place to appreciate the depths of hopelessness that one experiences… even when THERE IS NO REASON TO FEEL THAT WAY.

To wit:  Anyone who feels that they know me is aware of how I identify with Michigan State, and with the basketball team beating Kentucky to start the season and the football team winning the Big Ten Championship over Ohio State, I was feeling objectively and demonstrably “good”.  I was more than good, the victories made me “happy”.  But even with the good feelings that the victories represented to me, “the black dog” still took up residence in my life.

I grew up with great admiration for Winston Churchill and his leadership of England in the second World War.  Reading about him and discovering that he suffered from depression only increased his esteem in my thoughts.  That is where I took the term “the black dog” to describe those moments where I was really sad as a teen.  But I never used the term “depression” to describe those states because I was still too much of myself and not overcome by the black dog.  In fact, the black dog itself was merely a caricature of what it has become… from a small, gruff-looking mongrel, to a huge and ominous creature.  It would be after I lost my job in Southfield and was struggling with getting to my feet in the “provincial town I once jogged ‘round” that I sought help… and even that decision was providential.

...BECAUSE THAT IS THE KIND OF STUFF THAT HAPPENS TO OTHER PEOPLE…

Even while I am not religious, I cannot find any other word to describe how I have felt about my life other than “blessed”.  It connotes all of the reasons why I feel the way I do about living, the depth of emotions that wells up, and that it isn’t something that I just thought about since my diagnosis.

When I say that I “love my life”, I mean it as completely as that phrase can be understood.  In fact, a small corner in my mind is reserved for a tragic end, not because I am a fatalist, but because I feel that I am living on “extra time”.  My life has already contained more fun and opportunity that two of most other people, and while I do feel a small twinge of guilt for not making more of it, the fact remains that this existence was given to ME, to make of it what I will.  So for all those other roads that wind and bend in the Nexus of Realities that would have led me to glory and universal acclaim, later for that stuff!  Because those other roads could have led me into a world of sulfur and brimstone (or I should have just said Del Ray and left things at that!!) and that is the point… there are no assurances that I would have had THIS LIFE…

I have three beautiful daughters, two who do talk and visit, one of whom makes it a point to keep me in her life.  There are MILLIONS of cats who can’t say that and it it isn’t a matter of pride with which I announce this with.  It is just the way things played out, with everyone playing their part and making the best choices they could.  Those decisions by me and my co-parents, led everyone to where we are now… and the future is yet to be written and sent to the copy editor for final revisions.  And while I am chronically broke, the steps that I feel that I should take to alleviate that mild hardship is viable and in visual range.  Just a dot, but I can see it!

Every day is the two quarters that Coach Gaines presages in his speech.  And after those two quarters… that’s it.  And as for me being alone and my relationships that had their high moments but eventually crashed and burned?  Well, it was about not what I wanted or even they may have wanted… but it was the perception that our relationship would never be honest, that there would always be something held back, kept in reserve…

… and I would never be able to look the person who was doing that and professing to have deep feelings for me at the same time.  I would rather fall alone than to be with someone who knowingly kept themselves from being present when the moment called them to account.  And since that is one of the agents that fuel depression, trust me when I say that is one that has been solved for...

UP ALL NIGHT LONG

SLEEP DEPRIVATION



Chrysler has more cool ‘Detroit’ commercials for the Charger. One of them looks like it was shot in the Detroit/Windsor tunnel and the other IS of the Charger rolling down Jefferson Avenue.


Personally, I am cheered to see the ‘little sister’ of the old Big Three doing better. I may even put a little bit of money where my mouth is and start buying stock in the company. It has kind of mystified me in the past decade or so that sales have been so week for the Pentastar. They have great looking vehicles … oh, maybe that is it. They look good but when it comes to function, they may have been lacking a bit. I know the Sebring was constantly being gigged when it came to performance. I guess there weren’t enough auto buyers like me, who would buy a car simply because it looked nice.




My last car was a bonnie wee BMW 320i. It was also the worst performing car I ever owned. I had the MOST trouble with that car and it was always expensive, nothing ever seemed to be priced routine! What I remember the most about it was AKA helping me to put on the brakes for the car… boy howdy! Of all the out of the box things I have done in my LIFE, getting dirty and EFFICIENTLY putting the brakes on that car was prolly the least likely thing I have ever done in my life!




THE GIRL LEAST LIKELY TO


The only ‘image’ problem I have is that I did not fit into the fantasies that I had of being a basketball star or boxing legend. When it came to the former dream, I wanted to be a power forward, smooth around the hoop on offensive and intimidating on defense. To have accomplished that, I would have had to grow to at least 6’7, hopefully a towering 6’9 or 6’10. That did not happen, obviously. As far as either being a football player … I only ever ‘liked’ to watch it… while I got pegged with ‘did not play well with others’ as an adult (because of some cat goofin’ with me), I could not get ‘in’ with the other boys who were playing on the football team… and I am nothing if not anything, a team friggin’ player! The only slight that I have ever has a struggle with is one made of by a limited, superficial observation about me regarding my sexuality.


Regular readers for the past few weeks should be aware that I don’t think that I will be dating anyone much younger than me, at least not intentionally. How that postulation is relevant here should be clear after I am finished with this entry.


In addition to that superficial observation on which way I ‘dressed’ in my slacks, I had to deal with the same question that Schoolly D asked of America… ‘Am I Black Enough for You’, only the questioner in my case was a BLACK person. Now if that is a WTF moment, having to qualify my “blackness” to another “brother” or “sister”, particularly a sister-girl. When I was more carefree and could take the extra ‘hits’ from being in the ‘run-n-shoot’ or from swinging and missing has kind of taken its toll. There are only so many hits in a body and only so many times making outs at the plate before you can do neither any more…


…BUT ALL REALLY GREAT ATHELETES HAVE ONE GREAT PERFORMANCE LEFT IN ‘EM…


…or a playoff, or tournament, or maybe a full season, who knows? Kurt Warner was considered over-the-hill when he led the Arizona Cardinals to the Super Bowl a few years ago. And the NCAA basketball tournament is chock-full of surprise teams winning more than a few games. While it doesn’t happen in the NBA’s grind of a playoff, the NHL’s playoff history is dotted by bottom seeds making deep runs towards the Stanley Cup. When it comes to boxing, let me tell you, Rocky is less fiction than many people realize. In fact, that is where I am taking my lead from, IF I decide to pursue anything while I am in Omaha.


Watching the Oscar’s in all of its pomp and circumstance has reinforced my designed withdrawal from social exchanges in the analog world. I have not been able to see the kind of movies that I have like since I decided to get back into the game, albeit with a strict ‘engagement’ policy. When I am by myself I have the freedom to go out and see the movies that I liked without want or


I can’t imagine that there is a big pool of open minded enough women in my current local area for me to reasonably expect that I would want to be bothered enough to overcome the inevitable ‘friction’ that is present when people get to know more about a person on beyond the surface. Those ‘strikes’ I have taken and ‘hits’ I have received when I am outside the pocket trying to make a play, have built up. And now all the “you are the only person I have met that ever would say this” or “I don’t know another black person who thinks that” have taken their toll because in this case, the ‘this and that are very much related.


There are a lot of ‘outsider’ and ‘I was a nerdling’ stories around for a person to pass the time (until I get to pass the time with you) with if that is what someone is looking for. Whatever it is that makes me come across as ‘eccentric’, I celebrate and like the most about myself. ‘Living out loud’ doesn’t have to be about coming out to declare your sexuality. It can also mean that you are not afraid to be who you are and to live.


I don’t want to be distracted by an intimate relationship with someone who confuses shared ethnicity with a shared belief about society or what constitutes individuals standards or morals. Also I don’t want to ‘corrupt’ anyone has drank the metaphorical kool-aid and believes in the memes that are rooted in an inconvenient history that is transforming before our vary eyes…


Nope. I am really, really good (even if I am doing poorly) without the distraction provided by letting in some random anomaly via a ‘relationship’. And that is that with that.

VOTE FOR KIMMIE!!

No, she isn't the Fly Skimmie, but another 'Kimmie',  Kimmiepooh has a blog that I read, KP Fusion.  She is part of the Mutual of Omaha 'Aha' moment campaign and she needs your vote to help her win!!  Click HERE to go see her talk about her moment and vote!!

AN 'AW, ISN'T THAT SWEET' EDITION OF READERS ALWAYS WRITE!!

Laurenne left a comment on my 'Saturday Musings' post, where I talked about one of the feeders of my last 'shake' being the Jill who flirted with me at the fitness center and my annoucing I was going to take part in challenge to feel and think positive thoughts for the next 3 1/2 months:

i love this challenge! And I think so many others (almost everybody!) needs to do the same when it comes to being a pushover.


You shouldn't do anything in life that you don't want to do.

Easy to say!

Also, I can't believe nobody's flirted with you! Don't believe it at all. My mom saw your comments on my blog and said you were (in her words) a hunk! ha! Moms.

Aw, isn't that sweet!  I am actually fine with no one flirting with me... and I am also cool with not meeting people for right now.  Part of the confustration that I felt in talking about Exercise Jill, is that I am going to have to adjust to really being alone soon.   The simple things that I have enjoyed doing are things that did not require another person's company, such as going to Applebee's and gorging out on their $20 bucks for 2 entree's deal.  I like the idea that I can hold that out as a 'carrot' at the end of a good week or keeping all my appointments and training dates.

Sometimes I do think about how cool it would be to have company... go to a movie or go for a walk in the crispness of the early fall... and how fun it would be to look forward to spring and pinic lunches (I can deal, but I don't like the winter... if I don't have to go outside for those three months, I think I won't!!) with a person who had the potential to be someone special to me... but I have had plenty of tries at that and that isn't a fail I am particularly looking forward to rediscover.

For instance, I think Nebraska and me will always have issues with understanding one another.  That is cool between friends because there is no big problem when someone stomps off mad... even best friends have to take a break from one another.  But when you mix in the relationship part and the supposed added intimacy of being boyfriend and girlfriend...

Yeah, maybe there were other women than Jill whose attention I may have attracted and unknowingly ignored or knowingly dismissed.  But as I hope to rediscover during the next 3 1/2 months of this challenge, is how much I do really like myself and my own company.

TALKING TO SOME WHO THINKS THEY KNOW...

...AND THEY DON'T

"Oh I remember... Listen don't hate me because I can't remember some person immediately. Especially when they look like everybody else, and talk and dress and act like everybody else." Franny made her voice stop. It sounded so caviling and bitchy, and she felt a wave of self-hatred that, quite literally, made her forehead perspire once again. But her voice picked up again, in spite of herself. "I don't mean that there's anything horrible about him or anything like that. It's just for four solid years I've kept seeing Wally Campbell's wherever I go. I know when they're going to be charming, I know when they are going to start telling you some really nasty gossip about some girl who lives in your dorm, I know when they are going to ask me what I did over the summer, I know when they are going to pull up a chair and straddle it backward and start bragging in a terribly quiet voice-- or name dropping in a terribly quiet casual voice. There is an unwritten law that people in a certain social or financial bracket can name-drop as much as they like just as long as they say something terribly disparaging about the person as soon as they've dropped his name- that he's a bastard or a nymphomaniac or he takes dope all the time, something horrible." She broke off again. She was quiet for a moment, turning her ashtray in her fingers and being careful not to look up and see Lane's expression. "I'm sorry," she said. "It isn't just Wally Campbell. I'm just picking on him because you mentioned him. And because he looks like someone who spent the summer in Italy or someplace."
"He was in France last summer, for your information," Lane stated. "I know what you mean," he added quickly, "but you're being so goddamn un--"
"All right," Franny said wearily. "France."

If Lane really understood Franny, he would have nodded instead of being so immediately defensive. Franny wasn't really talking about Wally or even guys like Wally, with their top coats and readying to follow in their Father's footsteps to the Ivies. She was talking about Lane and the fact that he was of their ilk and she wanted to be more than just a proto-wife, whose Sarah Lawrence or Radcliffe degree was nothing more than a stamp for her entry into the same kind of bland, formless life that she sees in the eyes of her classmates and, quite possibly, in her Mother.

This selection reminded me of so much that puts me at odds with 'my people'. I can remember arguing about music and how my tastes were not like that of my peers and how much effort that some people went into explaining why I was 'like that'.

Seems like Franny is going through one of those 'moments of clarity' now.

'Wally Campbell' could be a construct for almost any person or kind of person, a caricature of a type. I know that I am loathe to deal with anymore 'Wally's' and their 'Wally stories'.

Franny is frustrated with a lot of things. One of them is her 'Wally', Lane. She thought that she could confide in him only to her dismay, he is 'one of them'.

*sigh* Reading Salinger. Next is Larsson's and his 'Girl With The Dragon Tattoo', for the book club at the library. I thought that this exchange was like too many I have had in my life. Too many.

ONE OF THESE DAYS I'M GONNA GET MYSELF ORGANIZIZED

AND NOW I SEE CLEARLY...

Well, I shouldn’t make a screeding post right after I post for the ‘100 Word Challenge’! Don’t know if that made some folk shy away from the story or not, but what I can say is that they did not come from the same place!! They don’t have any relationship to each other, though I hope that this entry makes some headway in either creating a better understanding of what I had hoped to say or give an understanding of what it is that I am going through right now.

This is one of the worst cases of the ‘whatevers’ that I have had to deal with by myself in quite a long time. Going in depth about why I think that may be would be to walk a fine line between making an excuse and avoiding responsibility for my words and making a legitimate case with evidence that may come back and be held against me in other ways, later. So I would rather take the confusion and all the feedback from ‘now’ and not put something out there that I may have to account for ‘later’.

Since I am what I am, I can only speak with any degree of personal certainty about my experiences as a black man and as a specific model, the Mark Johnson exclusive (the one and only, if there is another then he’s a phony!!). One of the reasons that it may have seemed harsh and angry is that I have wearied of all the sanctity that surrounds certain institutions. Whenever you offer a critique or a disagreement from the groupthink, you become a pariah.

A lot of those things I was not conscious of at my beginning like some of the media culture stereotypes. I did not intend on making a statement with my preferences and to this day I am not trying to be difficult for the sake of being different. One of the things about my speech that made it so inflamed was that I am going to be 43 on the 8th of next month. I am agog that someone in my peer group still thinks like the way that set me off. I was not trying to assess blame as much as I was wondering (quite angrily) why people are like that, still? Not that certain things should be forgotten but some of the thinking about people and their likes and dislikes as well as their WHY of living should never go beyond a surface level of discussion. Anything further becomes accusatory and I am so like ‘spit it out’. I was taught that if it was not something you were willing to call or say to your Mom, you should not go there at all.

Even with all those words, it was all a metaphor for something else that I will not be going into at this time, if ever.

WHO SHOT THE SHOT THAT CAUGHT THE COP THAT CHOPPED THE COP AND MADE HIM DROP?

In sports, I think, you take empirical data and form and objective plan that is dependent on subjective analysis of projected performance during a specific sphere of time/space. Or thereabouts. Why else would there be an industry that exists almost solely to create ‘measurables’ or metrics on which millions if not billions of dollars ride upon?

Since sometimes my anger spills over and I am a boxer, I worry a lot about my use of visions of beating someone up as filters for how I see episodes in my life. Two words fuel my reason for this—Travis Bickle.

My Mom was cool enough to take me to see ‘Taxi Driver’ even though she kept reminding me that it ‘wasn’t going to be what I thought it was’. It wasn’t, she had THAT much right!! But what it was left a mark on me. Perhaps that is why my introspection often has me trying to check what makes me upset or even apologizing for it, because while we all have the potential for reason to give way in our minds and have our grip on reality loosen if not give clear away, a few of us may be closer than we would like to believe.

In junior high, I thought of Travis in the same way I thought of other figures, like Dante & Virgil who were on a long walk, and Gregor Samza who was victimized by something beyond comprehension. A few weeks ago I thought I had come up with my new objective -- I would study objectivist theory and existentialism and perhaps write some papers that took those philosophies and fit them in with what is occurring in the world. What I do know is that it would be a part of any fiction that I would write.

That was another thing that my long rant reminded me … that I do not have anyone to debate or speak with about more, ah, what is the word I am looking for..? Abstract?? Yeah, that will work…my more abstract thoughts and ideas. Sometimes I used to think that if my ex-wife had been able to get over herself that we could have grown intellectually as well as in matrimony, because she was not as dumb as she believed herself (which is something I could not say about Mookie Dee) to be. Her own inner demons never would allow for her to believe she could move past where she was and be as brilliant as she could have been, or as I maybe alone, saw her.

IF ONE HAD EYES WHICH COULD SEE, FLOATING ALONG A WARM, SUMMER’S BREEZE

Though I am confident (bordering on cocky, some have said… another thing that ‘some’ people were wrong about!) it does feel good when I get a comment that says good things about me or that I have cheered them in my email. And the same goes for most of the folks that leave comments as well as simply read and scratch their head!

But there is one thing that I am puzzled by… who is it that comes here and visits from Annadale,Va?

MEASURE TWICE...

THINGS THAT I THINK THAT I THINK


I don’t think that any of my internal struggles are exclusive to me. As far as what is different about me and mine from you and any of yours is how we deal with them and the results that spring from our efforts. It is difficult to see how our individual circumstances may relate to one another. Maybe there is something in what I write here that will be of some help someone in here. I am not sure that there is, but there could be, I just don’t know.

Woke up and went out to Hutch’s place on Sunday morning which was an adventure in itself. We arrange to ‘meet halfway’, with my catching the bus out to Livonia and meeting him at ‘my McDonald’s’ and we go from there. The adventure began with the discovery that the first bus out west only goes as far west as far as Outer Drive on Plymouth, which is nowhere near my destination. I was out early to go and sit in the restaurant and utilize the wifi until the time for our meet up came. Since I was not aware that the bus would not drop me where I intended to go, I told the driver of my predicament and he issued me a customer service transfer, allowing me to continue on the same line to Livonia. Being that it was Sunday and the nearby party store was not open for me to get more change for the additional bus fare, that was a small ‘solid’ that the driver was able to do for me. Little did I know that it would be two hours before the bus would arrive, giving me plenty of time for reflection on exactly ‘where I was going’, not only literally but where I was going, metaphorically.

The sky was a bit overcast and I was hoping that I would be able to catch the bus before it started raining. The weather forecast being one of the things that I haven’t kept up with, getting word of it in bits and pieces, so I am only aware of there being a constant threat of rain at any particular time. It would not rain and checking the Nebraska Cornhusker watch that I was given as a X-Mas gift two years ago to me by Nebraska, I guessed that I would have a full hour to wait for the next bus. I ended up being off by an hour and since I did not have the foresight to include Hutch’s cell phone number in my cell phone’s address book, I could not call him and let him know of my situation. Though I was not sure that he would have the patience to wait for me, I decided to go out anyway, eschewing the 2-plus mile walk it would have been for me to return to my father’s house. Besides, I enjoyed being outside in the still dozing city. Moments of quiet time is what allows for clear, almost meditative thinking to take place and I wanted to take advantage of the moment to do just that.

After getting off of the bus and crossing Plymouth I stopped in a dingy looking motel. I did think about calling it ‘seedy’ but there are truly ‘seedy’ motels and though this was close, it was not one of them to me. No doubt, some of the activities that took place inside of it would meet the average person’s standard of ‘seedy-ness’, but not mine and definitely not since I would go into the office and ask the likely owner-operator, a tired looking man of sub-Asian descent, about the weekly rate at the motel. One hundred and seventy-five dollars was my answer and that was about what I figured. Had inquired of a few places in Omaha of what they charged and they had higher rates. But given that I was prolly calling places that were more legitimately affiliated with providing a guest experience than the ‘guest experience’ that this one does, I wasn’t at all surprised.

Right now, I am worried. That is something that I am not accustomed to, being worried to the point where if anyone were to have asked, ‘How are you doing,’ that the word even comes to mind. There are a lot of things that I am concerned about right now and it seems that each single item has a ‘last but not least’ quality to it as it leads to another concern. It all adds up to a level of uncertainty that makes me want to scrub the entire idea of going out west. Going out to Hutch's would mean I would have to hear and face some uncomfortable things, some of which I will address here. That I do not agree with at all of what he will have (and did) to say matters less to me. I feel that having heard his opinion and my being faced to deal with stating my reasoning not only to him but to myself and ‘spirits and the saints’ of the universe that I would eventually find something to ease my discomfort with my decision to go to Nebraska.

Needless to say that did not happen but it was good to have a look-see at many of the pieces to my ‘discontent’. As to what makes up my ‘discontent’, I first must explain the history of that word in my life. It came to me either after watching the Jack Lemmon-Lee Remick classic, ‘The Days Of Wine And Roses’ or because of the alliteration of the Blair Brown show, ‘The Days And Nights Of Molly Dodd’, to use the phrase ‘The Era Of My Discontent’ to describe my teenage years. I was never that unhappy but I did feel that I had more in common with ‘James At Sixteen’ than I ever did ‘Michael’ from ‘Good Times’. For me to use the word ‘discontent’ with any description of my state of mind it means that I am being shadowed by a combination of confusion and angst. To have this feeling instead of the optimism at the start of a new direction for me instead of the optimism that I am accustomed to having, the enthusiasm that I am more than eager to share with others is VERY unsettling.

A lot of it has to do with very concrete issues and they are things that I have no direct control over anymore. One of them is one that I have shared here many times, my cases with the FOC of Wayne County. Even though I have all my orders signed off since June, the orders, they still have not been forwarded to the Social Security Administration and have not been reflected in what I get in my monthly check.

Since I know how much that troubles me and how detrimental it is to my being able to move forward, the unfinished business with the friendly folks in the Penobscot offices still haunt me. There is no one else to blame for my hasty decision to get a plane ticket to out to Omaha other than me, and that is where the buck stops.

The possible opportunity to live in a house in a decent enough neighborhood not far from my Father and still pursue a life and a dream of mine is breathtaking. Many of the issues that have created my current state of discontent would be nearly completely eliminated. But right now, the discontent has only grown, primarily because of the opportunity. Hutch has a friend with whom he worked with at the same high school for the million years he worked as a teacher. Recently she went through some ‘stuff’ and the situation has left her with a house that she will not be living in and considering the depressed housing market, not trying to sell. While there are more details to be worked out, it may be possible for me to take residency of the house.

Did I mention how uncomfortable I am with how this part of the operation to move to Nebraska has been for me? I know that I have already shared how I can finally see myself making my way in Detroit, at least as a individual resident that adds to the character of a neighborhood. But I also can see myself finding an actual purpose, going to school and eventually a job (it won’t be easy, but is anything worth great effort ever easy?) and getting the first level that I am aiming for accomplished, getting a two-year degree.

BEFORE THE BURN GETS OUT OF CONTROL

MEDIA MATTERS?

I am not at all sure what went down on the television show “The Bachelorette”. In reading the cover of ‘US’ magazine, seems poor Ali was the victim of typical male douchbaggery. When took the headlines and compared them to the douchebaggette’s on the Bachelor, what, last year or whenever, this is what I see.

Some of the ‘real’ in reality being exploited purely for entertainment purposes and as with other reality entertainment, it also clearly reflects what goes on every single day in society. As much as people would like to think that the kind of behavior on shows like ‘Jersey Shore’ and ‘Real Housewives of Wherever’ are not more than fringe examples of society. Unfortunately, I think that there is a lot more ‘reality’ than society cares to admit.

Watching the FULL video of Shirley Sherrod speak at the NAACP Freedom Fund Banquet, there is NO DOUBT that a hatchet job was done on her speech. At first I had my own twist on the Breitbart clip that one would not be too far off if you thought like what those on the right wanted you to infer from the clip, that maybe she allowed bias to affect how she did her job.

After looking at a tape of her ENTIRE speech and gaining full context, there is no doubt that someone was looking for a clip to be slanderous and hurtful to the Obama administration. The knee jerk reaction to fire her is one of the big problems of the 24 hour news cycle, full of sound bites and snap judgements. If you got 45 minutes, you will see a very good speech about working together and overcoming the problems that our country faces right now.

The overall speech was about growing past these superficial divisions and finding a way to make the ‘other side of town’ work with us. She did exhort a little when it came to trying to talk to the younger people in her audience. A Toni Morrison quote she used could have been the title of her speech.

“Race exists, but it doesn’t matter.”

She gave black people a lot of ‘tough love’. That was about it for any purposeful speech that was for ‘just us’. Even there, you can see where it would have been applicable to any ethnic group. If I were her, I would worry about my reception back at work, too. She has been smeared and she already knows that the folks who should have had her back from the beginning can’t be counted on. I would also add that only so many would actually be bothered to watch the entire speech and be able to understand where she was coming from. There is still room for misunderstand because it was tailored to her audience. But as far as being something that was demonstrative of racial animosity, it was so FAR from that, that her bosses should be ashamed for hanging her out to dry.

BACK TO REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING
(video comes with a content warning)



This is the song that I mentioned earlier that had the inappropriate content video that I didn’t want to share. I did find a live version that I felt comfortable with associating myself with and then I found this super clever mash up of Disney and industrial anger management music!!

I think one of the aspects of this kind of music is how emotions coalesce in me around it. I remember when this song was new and how despite the profanity how it felt as it my blood pressure was dropping and I was in a trance, thinking about the times that ‘this sh*t DID f*ck me up’, or I wanted it to f*ck up someone or that I could bang my way through someone, throwing double hooks, up and down, then bringing a right hand over the top busting up an opponents guard. This would be a GREAT song to run, lift, or beat the living daylights out of that cretin that cut you off on the highway!!

While I don’t fret much over the lyrics too much when it comes to the music I share, the video that I was watching to this song before I saw this one was simply too much to be connected with and I didn’t want to disrespect anyone. What that video DID do on a subliminal level, was make me confront my sex life, as in, will there BE anything more to it? When the course for the last ten years of my life was still in its developmental stages, along with international travel, being ‘active’ in the dating scene was another part of my life I was going to put under a severe restriction. I wasn’t going to worry about that and while I wasn’t going to declare myself ‘celibate’, there wasn’t going to be any ‘pinging’ either. See, I am not afraid of being alone.

WORLD TRAVELER

I have struggled to put this to words, not because I am uncomfortable with the topic or with acknowledging what has to happen at some point in life, the accepting that I won’t have an active physically intimate life. Period. As with wanting to go to another country across the seas, with which I have had my fill, same applies to, well, getting laid.

Were I already in a relationship, it would be a different matter entirely. In my thirties I was hoping to become more of a minimalist with the various odds and ends that were in my life, not for the sake of getting rid of things that I didn’t want to deal with, but so that I could commit more energy and achieve more in other areas of my life, areas that I would not have to be concerned with what kind of benefits were being brought to my life.

Understanding boundaries is something that I have always stood clear on, that ‘I get’ when people are giving me their ‘rules, boundaries and limitations’. I may appear to be excited and moon-eyed over the prospect of getting to know someone, I feel that I am still tethered to certain realities and not letting myself be fooled into being swept away into fantasy.

So when I would say that ‘Nebraska promised me her friendship and I was cool with that’, that was what I meant. Though I won’t pursue a relationship, it is not a case of me cutting off all possibilities. I don’t see myself as doing anything like that. In my mind, it is about priorities and being able to find someone understands their priorities so that we can find out how compatible they are with mine. In short, someone with whom I can ‘work with’ and accept for all of their idiosyncrasies as well as their being able to deal with me and mine.

Since one can’t ever ‘know’ all of anything, I do know that my focus has certainly changed. And being in a relationship is too blurry for me to make out, a part of the hazy horizon where all I can make out is uncertainty. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is going to be my biggest enemy for the rest of my life. Why, then, would I invite that marauder to be a major part of my future well being?

Whether I believe my own story, believe that I have been victimized as much if not more than I have victimized others, what matters is where I am going to go from here. Starting with being more responsible for my own well being, which is why I am adjusting my plans as of now.

THE OPPORTUNITY KNOCKS

THE DREAD DESTROYER

Since there is a 'Thor' movie on tap for next year and he, along with the 'Sentinel of the Spaceways', Silver Surfer and 'the Champion of Darkness, the Avenging Angel of Light', Adam Warlock, constituted my favorite heroes during my span of comic book collecting, I have been looking for an excuse to make a post about this cat here. There are traits about the Destroyer that made him instantly admirable, starting with his role as a immutable force of nature.

A suit of armor that stands immobile unless inhabited by another life force, the suit has but one purpose when animated and that is to destroy whatever being it lays its eyes on. Once someone has became its focus, then nothing will stop the armor from pursuing and of course, destroying whatever it is after.

That is all that was to him. No sinister plan of world domination and no particular foe, though he faces the Thunder God exclusively. Wasn't interested in observing for a weakness because it didn't matter. He existed to do just ONE THING, and that was destroy whatever it was he saw.

One of my boxing robes that I still have from my childhood days has 'The Destroyer' sewn in script on the back. Whether I was that or not is open to question but I wanted something to define me in the way that name 'The Knockout King' defines Randal Bailey (it takes until 2:13 before you get the chance to see what the announcers are talking about in the video). Not only that, but I would like to have used the persona to alter my actual character so that I had what I don't have, a real killer instinct. He was, is and shall remain the closest personification of Nietzsche's and by association, mine, formula of happiness.

AND THAT IS THE CONFLICT

So I am sitting here thinking this out as I write because there is a competition of sorts going on in my mind. Another concept (once again, channelling my inner Mary Katherine Gallagher) that echoed from my tentative attempts to join in and be among the faithful in church, is when God (characterized by Morgan Freeman) speaks to Evan's wife (Lauren Graham). When she has doubts about what her husband is doing and is looking for a sign that he is doing what he is meant to be doing, she is told this:

Let me ask you something. If someone prays for patience, do you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient? If they pray for courage, does God give them courage, or does he give them opportunities to be courageous? If someone prayed for their family to be closer, you think God zaps them with warm, fuzzy feelings? Or does he give them opportunities to love each other?

Both concepts, from 'Evan' and from Freddie are what makes up most if not all, of my understanding on how to live. I don't ask that life is always 'straight'. In fact I don't believe in the doctrine of 'fairness'. How does one determine 'fairness', in a known universe of either imperfection or of one's unworthiness of the knowledge to know what is 'fair'? What I do like and believe in is the opportunity that we are given as human beings in the lottery of life. I am not a microbe nor a seagull on the Louisiana coast. Wasn't born into being a Christian in Ethiopia, an Arab Muslim in the Palestine or a Jew in 1930 Germany. When I tell you that I appreciate my life and my empathy extends to those who have made it out of horrible environments by any means necessary, I make more than a token effort in understanding that 'my blues ain't like theirs'.

THAT ANCIENT REPTILE INSIDE OF US ALL

Whenever I think of the inhuman things that we put other human beings through, I blame that part of the brain, the CPU, the static and poor reception that goes on in their amigdala, for causing people to warp. Example, there were two stories in today's paper, one about a Grandma gone in-freakin'-sane in Highland Park and another Mom who was found guilty of sexual molesting her teenage son. And please, I am not trying to foster any particular agenda, just that those were the stories that caught my eye. I see it first as man's inhumanity to man and would mark them as examples of that, first.

As an individual being, I do think that our first and highest priority is to the self. Yet in every collective of human social units, the self is the first thing that is devalued. This isn't something that I just came up with the other day but what has been the biggest fissure in my mind. What is wrong with trying to live in a bracketed by a pair of vertical lines and being valued as who you are and what you are?

Okay, okay. I get it, I really do. From studies of other social creatures and living beings, there is some purpose to connecting and maybe even the secret to the universe will be revealed in understanding how we all are supposed to live in harmony with every other living thing on Earth, perhaps the entire universe. Right now, I would be very content with understanding how to live among a few.

LIKE AND LOVE... THERE IS A DIFFERENCE, DONTCHA KNOW

I have found it hard to turn my back on anyone. That is a source of my current consternation, that I have to turn my back on my sister, the flesh of my flesh and blood of my blood variety. When it comes to relationships some folks think that you can love someone without actually liking them. I don't. If I can't like you then I can't ever love you. Took that out for a test run already in my life and when practiced that there theory, held a ton of water. But that is me.

Do I think that my sister's love me? By their definition, and the definition of prolly millions of others, they do. But not by mine.

Sometimes people are more loyal to those things and people that they say 'they like' than they are to things that they love. I also think they are that way with people, too. That is why in my 'Mark-ivellian' way, I would say that it is better to be liked than it is to be loved!

This could be my opportunity to do something that I meant to have done a quarter century ago.

JEER THE LIGHTS IN THE WINDOWS OF ALL SAFE AND STABLE HOMES

THE RETURN OF STIFLED FRIDAY NIGHTS

Since it is normal to feel sad and have our emotions cycle, I am not so surprised that I am feeling rather 'blah' today. Considering the movies that I watched today 'The Reader' and 'Slacker', it isn't any real surprise that I am feeling down.

'The Reader' was a very sad movie for me personally. I think that Kate Winslet played the role of Hannah perfectly and drew sympathy from me, though she had once been a prison guard at an Nazi internment camp. Avoiding spoilers for those who would like to spend two quality hours with a movie, the story with her once teenage friend as an adult (David Cross/Ralph Fiennes) was one that tore at me for reasons that were unique to my personal experiences. While the ending was predictable, it left me wondering what else happened as that world moved on. It was watching 'Slacker' that I was stunned to hear someone verbalize a life motif that I have wondered about myself and call, 'thinking at the nexus of realities'.

In 'Slacker' the cat proposed that the other paths where Dorothy and the Gang found and made their way down the yellow brick road had a reality all to themselves that exists for them despite their choice of another path. As he spoke to the cab driver, he was oblivious to his indifference. That was a microcosm of what I feel sometimes when I talk about tangential stuff to support a main idea or I take an unpopular view (as I did dissin' the sister hood in my entry that included my thoughts on the film 'Precious') on a particular subject. Or, it could be something that whoever I am with simply doesn't want to hear or talk about.

That is prolly a big part of why I am out here now. I mean, I do have a laptop and going full 'Doogie Howser' floats through my mind every now and again, but I have not a problem admitting that I want to be heard by someone and my purpose for keeping my journal online has evolved. So we will see.

For instance Nebraska has to wonder what kind of entries I will be making concerning our relationship and I don't know what I will say about 'us'. After all, who is going to want to sit and watch movies 'Rashomon', 'Flags of...' and 'Letters To...' or joints like 'Transiberian', indie films like 'The Wackness' or 'Brief Interviews With Hideous Men' with me? Not 'all' but perhaps a couple and I'd let them pick... not two? Then maybe one and I promise not to go into a discussion of the merits and the message of the film?? And please, lets not get started with discussions on current events... cultural, social and political?

'Slacker' was an hit on the art house circuit years ago but I never saw it. Finding it at the library I went ahead and picked it up. Took a second to get into it but for me it was worth watching the film and how it evolved. But I couldn't imagine anyone being willing to sit through such an unorthodox film or understand why I
want for Austin, Texas and burnt orange! I do trust her a great deal, otherwise I'd have not went out to Chicago to meet with her (uh, do you really think I could have trusted my sister? I don't and I know why I couldn't have!!) when I did. She sent me the application for housing and I mailed it back. That took a lot of stress off my mind and maybe I will stop staring longingly at vacancies here (but dag, if I ride past the one I saw in Dearborn and it is still on the lawn, I will prolly pop!!) and start getting things together so I will be ready for the 28th.

THE SERIES FINALE IS ON THE ROAD

In Sun Tzu's treatise 'The Art of War', death ground describes a condition where you place your troops in a situation so perilous that they must either win or die. I have had that attitude in my mind whenever I stopped and launched myself into the blue with the expectation of soaring into the skies and beyond as high as I possibly could go. There have been times when the thought entered my mind that maybe this IS it and there isn't anymore ... but I just don't KNOW that yet, so I have to take one more leap off the cliff, to find out, don't I?

About the indecisiveness I have been going through, another Sun Tzu quote, "If you fix your eyes upon details and neglect important things, you spirit will become bewildered and victory will escape you." That is something that I have been guilty of. Thinking about the things that I know that I don't know or have any real control over. Saying that to say that I am going to treat the doubts that I have like the impostors they are and put my boots on the ground in Omaha. And if I have indeed miscalculated then my readiness is going to have to win the day, for I have accounted for all the things that could go wrong and I won't be swept away should 'wrong' occur.

When I consider starting a life in a place I have never been (but it would be neat if I ran into that kid from Nebraska that I boxed years ago!) but felt 'called' to, I feel as if I was 17 again ready to start my life with pockets filled with stars and those stars spilling out and trailing behind me as I walk to my jump pad. No, I am not as fit as I once was and things could be a little bit tighter but enough talk. The 28th will be here before I know it and since it is GOING to come, I better be ready for its arrival!!

SAD THING IS, THE NOVEL ISN'T THAT 'NOVEL'

NEW READER SHOUT OUT

Not that I don't pay attention to when my follower count changes or anything like that but I do purport this to be an actual journal. So don't get me wrong when I say that I write this more for me than to attract attention. I flirted with the idea of an online journal for a bit before I actually decided to put more of myself into it. The circumstances I was in dictated that if I wanted to get my thoughts together and keep track of where I was going with those thoughts, it was actually more secure to put things down in an online journal. That is the irony of my being out here, that it was once more secure than trying to keep something in a journal on line than in the analog world.

So to all who have started to follow me, I would like to acknowledge you. Sorry if I don't do a 'roll call' or anything like that. Still, daps to you and you know who you are!!

THE MOVIE THAT WAS BASED ON THE BOOK BY SAPPHIRE

On Wenesday I like to check out movies from the library because I get 'extra' time with the weekend and the library being closed. Instead of the normal three days, I get to keep movies for 5 days and I check out 6 at a time. One of the movies that I finally broke down and checked out was 'Precious'.

I went to a nearby Subway and me and a couple got into a conversation about the movie. They had seen it and thought it was a little overrated and some of their critiques mirrored some of my reservations about the movie. I told them that since it was for free, I decided to see what all the commotion was about without having put $10 US down for a ticket. Let me say that straight away, it was an amazingly accurate and honest portrayal of an aspect of urban life, one that is brutally ignored within the African American community. That I read an entry by one of my 'blog heroes' and a true 'first responder' in the war for our children and the mix of some of what goes on in my current surroundings, along with my observation, it spurred a surge of emotion for me.

First, because I may have thought things was similiar enough for me to share my opinion in my comment, I may have been doing a little bit of 'as I say, not as I do'. I thought about that as I hit the 'post comment' button. *sigh* Hope they aren't like 'WTF?!? Why don't YOU do that with your situation?" I don't think that it isn't that I won't do the things that I say, which is end my relationship with my sisters, but that I didn't do and keep to that tacking SOONER.

As soon as I was able to get out and stand on my own, that was when I should have stayed to the process of cutting back on my peeps being a part of my life. I 'knew' that it would be beneficial to the both my siblings and myself if I went on with leaving out and not looking back. One of the reasons it has taken me so long to truly look forward to excuting and planning a life without their influence in my life, is because there is no truly epic breakdowns in my life or in my family to where I could fuel my will to shut that part of me down.

No abuse of any kind and if there was a 'favored' kid in our family, the sibs said it was me (but I think it was my darling brother). But I think that was an opinion pushed by crappy Jan (it's always Mark, Mark, Mark!!) and her self-loathing... and that is the segue.

The self loathing that black (yes, yes I do use the term'AA' and black interchangeably... sorry about that!)folks operate with was on display in the movie and how dense the gravity to break free and into orbit from that planet is, was also accurately portrayed. Because I have seen plenty of it and why self-esteem is such a valuable commodity for women and especially sister girls. I don't think there is a more exploited class of person that young black women, and that is coming from a person who unwittingly handled those weaknesses clumsily and selfishly.

I am not going to offer up any spoilers, but the finish of the movie was a powerful statement and with another powerful film, 'Antwone Fisher' puts a lot of the lie of the myth that black women are these wonderful and powerful one parent dynamos. This is going on observation, not experience.

There has been much said about how we allow the culture to teaches young sisters to be hypersexualized caricatures. The women who 'feel' Chris Brown after his appearance on the recent BET whatever is laughable. But when you have Rihanna singing odes to exactly the kind of cat (and what else does she think a 'Rude Boy' is capable of? It isn't that big a stretch for him to be a punk a** puncher, is it now?) who roughed her up, then what exactly are we telling young women to do? What message are we sending young men about how they treat and respect young women?

In fact, that has been part and parcel of why I haven't gone into any depth of what went down last weekend, or at least how I saw it. Because no matter what words I would use or the kind of spin I put on the incident, there is no way I could put it and be comfortable with what I had to say.

DEGREES OF SEPARATION

There are sisters who come thru these parts and they are so ugly physically that it upsets my stomach. That one of them has a 5 month old angers me because some cat was that desparate that he games this girl.

She has no discernible skill other than Facebooking. There are brighter lights in glove boxes than in her brain. And she is ugly... I never mentioned it but last year I distinctly recall the first time I saw her and how badly I wanted for a broadsword so I could say, 'back, back I say! Return ye to the foul depths from whence you came!'

And, she has a sister! I don't know if they are twins because their ugly is evenly distributed between them. I do know that they are related and I HATE when I see them around. Not only because they are difficult to countance but because they are stupid and share the kind of future that would bring them closer to being Precious' Mother than being like Precious.

WHAT ELSE I TOOK FROM THE MOVIE

Even though I felt that I overspoke in my comment, when the movie ended with Precious moving forward and the feeling that she was going to excell in spite of what she endured in her life, I said to myself, "That is how you do it!" Keep on doing what you know it best no matter what anyone else says or thinks. Like what I should have done.

When I was 17 and 18, still sending money home and gifts to my family from wherever I was stationed, I could excuse myself for not really believing that it was 'like that' for me. Even then I knew I could 'think too much'... no, I was TOLD that. Anywho, I know that in my heart I didn't want to believe what I was feeling and I don't think Precious wanted to believe what she was getting in feedback as well. Wasn't until she was exposed to something different that made her believe in herself that she was able to see more in life than her surroundings. Like I said, the lack of a seismic event growing up that signaled anything to me, kept me wondering if I wasn't making up a grand decit of a perception when it came to my family.

I never operated with the urgency that I guess my blog hero or Precious did. I always knew where my next meal was coming from and had everything that I needed and the things that I wanted, was able to go out and get what wasn't provided. That has what made me whining about things so unplatable to me, because I could have had an 'Antwone Fisher' life (but didn't) just as easily as some girl could be somewhere living a 'Precious' existence ( or a 'Winter's Bone' one, going by excellent reviews of that movie of a life in the Missouri Ozarks) right now. And I have no doubt that some are living those dreary lives and if not for people like my blog hero, would be doomed.

SINCE I AM RUNNING LONG...

... as my time grows 'short', I may explain why sometimes instead of pulling everything directly from what ever zip code I am in and what goes on there, I get an idea from the journals that I read. Happy Holidays!! Oh and don't forget that freedom isn't free, but it is costs whatever the Federal Reserve says it is!!