Who Let the Air Out?

Whoop whoop whoop whoop. Do you remember the song to which I am alluding? It was kinda catchy after a while even if you aren't into that sort of music. Anyway, I've been away for a while just living life and doing me. Nothing really serious but I was cultivating me so that I can be the best JayBee possible. I had to identify some goals and benchmarks to chart my progress toward what I wish to have and be. Not gonna go into detail about it in this post, but that information is more likely than not forthcoming.

So, as we are all critically aware, it is the weekend prior to arguably the most significant political event in the last forty years. I was giddy the first time I heard someone say, "Happy Inauguration Weekend." In the past I don't remember anyone referring to this time as Inauguration Weekend. To begin celebrating the festivities many people are partying all weekend. How marrying the union of the African American experience and the American experience equates to drunken revelry is beyond me, but whatever. I like a lil party e'er' now and again myself.

In true JayBee fashion, there was in fact another celebrity sighting last night at Love. That's right folks. You guessed it. JayBee was all up and through there! Love is a popular club in DC. Lots of people. Tigger showed up and Jay Z took the stage as well. Jay Z (not Bee) didn't do much more than bob his head and drink from a flute, but he had his face in the place. More beautiful and shapely women than you can count and most people appeared to be having a good time. I smirk every time I see someone on the dance floor moving through the throng carrying a bottle of Moet or some other pricey libations. Before you even start, I ain't hatin' on nobody. I could purchase a bottle of Mo' but I know better. First of all, I don't even like champagne that much and even if I did, I just am not in a position to indiscriminately make ridiculous purchases. We all know that holding that bottle of Moet is supposed to send a message about your status. I'm gon shut it down with two questions for all the people I saw last night toting the bottles and bouncing and snaking through the crowd. By the way, of course they always hold it so as to draw some attention. I can't really describe it, but if you've been to a party and witnessed this you know what I'm talking about. Ready for the questions? Good. Here goes: What's your credit score and who's your primary care physician? If you aren't in at least the 700s for the first one and are not able to state the name and location of the second you have no business holding a bottle of anything. Unless it's a bottle of common sense.

I just needed to get that out. That's not the point of this entry.

So before I went in the party I was arguing with this crackhead guy who was doing parking. I told him I was not paying $5.00 to park on a city street. In my mind (Ieisha, you should be able to clear this up) he can't charge money to park on a city street. After I refused to pay the fee and parked anyway because it's a public street, he tried to sell me a card for $5.00 to get in the cut line. I told him that I didn't need it because I know someone who works there so I don't wait in line anyway. Once we left the club around 3:15ish and walked back to the car I noticed that my right back tire was flat. Mind you my tires are less than 1 year old and have plenty of tread on them. I don't think I ran over anything. My supposition is that ole crackhead with the stolen orange vest punctured my tire. Imagine my dismay when I walked out and it was nine degrees and 3:24 by the time we got to the car.

I'm back. I gotta share what happened at Christmas when I went back to Georgia. I hope every one's holidays went well and that people are at least doing something to mark the day for the inauguration.

No Excuses

We had a pretty good time yesterday, although we left sixteen minutes late. One of the students got off the bus to use the restroom and I didn't know and I instructed the driver to go and so she got left. That says to me that you have to be in place. So many people want to operate outside the covering. If you had to use the restroom, there were some options. One option would be to make use of the facilities on the charter bus. Otherwise it is critical that you inform someone where you are going so that someone would know and could be accountable and awaiting your safe and speedy return.

Not all of the students chose to ride the bus. Some of them drove down on their own and paid the full price admission fee for the park. Again, that's what happens when you operate outside the covering. There's safety in the ark. If you had done what you were asked to do, then you could have saved about thirty dollars. It's not a big deal to me though. If they like it, I love it. I am one who likes to save a dollar whenever possible.

What is disheartening is that so many of these kids have a poverty mentality. They live in substandard housing with under- or uneducated guardians whose idea of a good time is facing a couple of blunts, frying some fish and washing it down with some alcohol.

Don't you just love it when people want to put their mouths on you instead of stepping to you and asking you what you feel about something. If you have a question about something, feel free to ask. I have no problem explaining to someone how I feel about something. That's not to say that I will address all inquiries. Some things are better left unsaid. But, for the most part, I will gladly field any inquiries.

Z didn't get too much darker yesterday at the park. I used SPF 70 with helioplex. I don't even know what helioplex is, (doesn't helio- mean sun?), but I just like to say "...with helioplex." It sounds like it makes all the difference. For those of you who want to get deep, no I do not have a color complex. I simply mean that I did not allow the radiation from the sun to excite the melanin present in my dermis thereby allowing less light to pass through. That is, if you put your color on a prism, the darker it is the less light that will pass through. Now that I've written that a racist could use that and make some really compelling metaphors.

Yeah, so if you've gotten this far you've realized that this is pretty random. No form nor comeliness. I don't know why I've been making so many biblical references lately. Maybe I'm just in one of those phases. That reminds me about this sermon I heard a few weeks ago. Wanna hear about it? Good, cause I was gonna tell ya anyway.

Let me give a little background. This was women's day so the women were ushering, singing in the choir, you know...pretty much doing everything that day. The woman who spoke grew up in this church, but has since moved away and started a life elsewhere complete with a husband and kids and a dog...blah blah blah. She's a minister and an educator and feeds the homeless and rescues stray cats from trees in her spare time.

The sermon title was, "No Excuses." First of all, to me that's more of a secular slogan that an religious theme/idea, but I was willing to listen and see where she was going with this. I'm pretty sure "No Excuses" was a part of an advertising campaign. She used two illustrations from the Bible. The first story was about a woman whose daughter was possessed with a demon and needed to be delivered. The speaker, let's call her Ms. Empty-Air, described how the woman demonstrated her faith when she asked Jesus to heal her child. It didn't appear that Jesus was in the healing mood, if you will, but because of her faith, he did it. Right here is a good time to say Amend. Emphasis on the 'd'. You know everything sounds more holy when you indiscriminately add and subtract letters as (in)appropriate. So basically woman asks for a healing and she receives it. The next story was about Lot's wife. Most people are familiar with this story. This is when Lot and his family were fleeing Sodom and Gomorrah (I wonder which on they actually lived in--or maybe S&G is like Winston-Salem or Raleigh-Durham) and the wife turned back and became a pillar of salt. She and everyone who was in their company fleeing the city had been warned not to look back. Someone should have told her that obedience is better than sacrifice. If I'm preaching you can stand up. Anyway, so she turned into the pillar of salt and everybody else kept going.

If you've forgotten, scroll back up and look at the sermon title in red. Okay, so just like me you're probably wondering what in the world this has to do with anything. What was so egregious is that she just kept peppering the discourse with no excuses like it was so sort of mantra or a theme for which she had laid a solid foundation. As I sat in my pew, I just couldn't make the connection with the illustrations that she chose. All the while she's still walking around hollering No Excuses. Finally she asked the pastor if she could come down on the floor to continue to speak. The pastor obliged. My interested was sparked at this time because I thought she was gonna really make the connection for me and tie up any loose ends in her sermon. so far, I had not gained a single thing. Once she got on the floor she just was talking about women having no excuses. I guess she meant like no excuses about being good wives, good mothers, good Christians, good in the community, faithful in service, etc. If these were her thoughts, she definitely didn't tie it together.

Other people were standing up and encouraging her as she spoke. I was looking around wondering to myself if they were listening to the same oration that I was. She was screaming about no excuses but hadn't said a thing since we had began. Talking loud, but saying nothing. To that I say no excuses. It's almost as if she didn't know she was speaking that morning and didn't have time to prepare. She knew at least a month in advance because I remember hearing it during the church announcements. I get really sensitive about church. I hate it when people speak and don't share anything new with me. Especially with the price of gas! I felt like going up to her and asking for her badge and her keys. I wanted her to turn over her certificate/license to preach because there was no excuse for what she allowed to masquerade as a sermon. I have an explanation for why people were standing up egging her on. Option one: I think that most of the people who were standing were just doing so because she grew up in that church and her mother still attends the church. Maybe they were supporting her and not necessarily supporting what she was saying. Option two: They are absolutely delusional.

Now though I use that phrase as a running joke with some of my friends and associates with whom I've shared this story. At any time one of us might just holler out "no excuses" just for no reason. Pretty much analogous to how she used it. It might have been a little better for her to talk about no excuse for people going to hell because of Jesus' sacrifice. Maybe I'll prepare something and e-mail it to her using that same sermon title. The only difference is what I send her will be coherent (despite the fact that this post isn't) and will be understandable.

So That Makes Sense To You?

Picture it. Sicily 1924. Oh wait, I'm getting my story confused with the way the grandma used to tell stories on the Golden Girls. Don't hate on the Golden Girls. That show was so damned funny. Actually, it was eighth grade year and we were getting ready to go on our class trip to Washington, D.C. I remember the trip cost $319 per person and of course you had to bring some spending money. We were gonna be in the city for five days four nights. The plan was to do all the touristy stuff the city had to offer.

I don't remember a whole lot of details about the trip. I do know that we had a helluva good time. We had coach transportation so the ride was comfortable. We watched movies, told jokes and reminisced about days gone by. Good times were had by all.

Anyway I had my lil $200 spending money. I decided that I was going to eat very cheaply all week and spend my money on me some name brand clothes. Growing up in my house at the time there were four children and two adults. My parents really, honestly couldn't afford to have four children. I'll never forget one day when we were in the car him* asked me if we (my siblings and I) wanted a little sister. I have two brothers and a sister so there were three boys and one girl. I was quick with my absolutely not reply. I told him* that he couldn't afford the children he already had. How was he gonna pay for another one? Although I was telling nothing but the sho nuff truth, this of course caused a small argument. Stop being so grown, blah blah blah. Disrespectful blah blah blah. I was thinking to myself, why ask a question if you don't want the answer? Even now when my friends and associates probe me for information I'll first ask them if they really want my opinion or if they want me to say what I perceive that they want to hear.

I almost forgot the point of that whole side story. The point is my peeps didn't really have it like that to be popping out any more babies. Plus, what's the guarantee that the next child would be a female. So far 3/4 kids have been male. Nikes and any other things with a recognizable label were not always things that we had the luxury of having. When we did get something we'd have to take excellent care of it because who knew when the next time was that you'd be able to have something else.

Like I said I ate cheap that week. There were even a couple meals built into the price of the trip so we weren't responsible for every single meal anyway. Everyone else was ordering some costly stuff for each meal but I fell back, because I knew I wanted to get myself a Tommy Hilfiger outfit. When it came time for the mall trip on the itinerary I did just that. I was so proud of my conquest. I couldn't wait to show my mom what I had purchased since they valued sacrifice. It seemed like that word was a constant theme in our house.

When I got back and showed her my outfit him* was present as well because it went down in their bedroom. Him* asked me how much I had spent. I don't remember the exact amount but it was somewhere around $130. Him*'s eyes got huge. He was like why would you be so selfish and spend $130 on one outfit. What about your brothers and sister? You could have stretched (another common word heard resonating in our house) that and got something for everybody. I was thinking to myself and I didn't say it that I thought the spending money was my spending money. I didn't realize that I was expected to shop for the neighborhood while I was away. If I had understood that I would have, but of course I would have needed more money because prior to leaving I had already decided what I was spending my money on. I rarely got to get name brand stuff so when I saw the chance to get me something I was definitely going to take advantage of it. Cancel those plans.

Him* decided that the following day, a Saturday, we would drive to the nearest Macy's and take back my purchase to get a refund. Then we'd drive back to Savannah and go to KidsWear and get outfits for me and my three brothers. I had a learner's permit so I did the driving. Mind you the nearest Macy's was 2.5 hours away. Back then gas was nowhere near what it is today, but I still didn't see how driving 2.5 hours to take back a $100 outfit was all that cost effective, not to mention the intangible cost of my time. That's about 7 hours of my life that I can't get back. Of course the stuff at KidsWear wasn't a recognizable name brand, but it was clean and I didn't look homeless. I think each of use got two outfits on that money.

When I told my best friend she laughed like no tomorrow. It became a running joke. "Shut up before I tell [him*] to take you to KidsWear." Even to this day we'll mention this incident in casual conversation from time to time and trip.

Why Am I Blue?

This just in: Don's post on Sunday was heads above the rest. Nothing but the truth! If you haven't read it, get over there and check it out. Now we continue with our regularly scheduled post.
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I'm just a country boy from the south who's him* is a preacher. We went to church on Sunday, Bible Study on Wednesday, service twice on Sundays for special programs, Vacation Bible School, Sunday School, Choir Rehearsal on Tuesdays, Easter practice--suffice it to say church was a big thing growing up. When I was younger I didn't really like going. Somewhere around age 14 or 15 I started liking to go to church. Even now I enjoy going. It's because I was able to develop a personal relationship with Him. It's really not so much about religion; it's more about having a relationship. Don't think that you have to do all that form and fashion stuff that people do at church under the pretense of being religious. If you have a relationship with Him, it'll show in your daily life. (If I'm preaching you can stand up and say Amen.) Have you ever encountered someone and you just felt like there was something different about them? Some sort of presence or an air about them that is hard to describe, but is very much so tangible. They had that it. Even if you can't describe or articulate what 'it' is, you know it's definitely something different. I submit to you that those are the people who truly are trying to walk the walk. Turn with me, to Proverbs the fifth chapter---just playing.

Anyway, church was a big deal. How do you find out more stuff that you can add to your church? You to go the church conference/convention in another state where a bunch of other church people get together and teach each other new buzz words and practices that are popular in their neck of the woods. It's like if no one in your church was speaking in tounges, if you go to the church conference and find out that that's what everybody else is doing, then when you come back to your home church you start doing it first and everyone thinks you've gotten closer to God and then they try to do it to because you're not gonna be closer to God than they are. Church people are like that. I've been around it all my life.

So this particular year we went to a church conference in Delaware. My parents already knew the pastor who was over the conference. I don't remember how they met, but they were already well acquainted. The conference might have lasted three days but we just stayed the rest of the time until Sunday where our church from home came to Delaware to have a joint service with the church in Delaware. Our church provided the music for that particular service.

The pastor and his wife were very hospitable. They introduced us to some of the members in the church who also entertained us during the week that we were there. My siblings and I ended up almost everyday hanging with this one family. Let's call them the Mitchells. The mom was so sweet and thoughtful. You should see her praise. She'd stand on her high heels and go from side to side like she's two stepping and make circular motions in the air with both her hands palms facing inward toward each other. The dad was a humble man, very mild mannered. He would shout like he was doing the funky chicken. There were two daughters in the family. One about 23 and one about 16. I'm around age 16 at the time. So yeah I wanted to get at the 16 year old. Let's call her Jennifer. (That was actually her real name). In order to get a girl to notice you on the 'church circuit' you have to act like you're really into church. Each night after the conference there is a evening service that starts around 6 or 7. What we (the guys) would do is find a girl who you like. When they call for the altar prayer, we'd go down front and get special prayer. That would encourage the girls to come down front and stand with you for moral support. If you got a girl to come down and stand with you, then she was yours. Other tactics included crying during the service. That whole "I'm sensitive" thing worked oh so well on those fast ass wholesome church girls. You only needed to shed a tear though if you were in her direct line of sight. If you couldn't be sure that she could see you, there's no point in crying.

So anyway, the Mitchells would come and get us during the week and we'd go to the beach or out to eat or to their home. One particular afternoon we went to one of the Mitchell's friends house. We were left alone and the adults went to town to shop or something. So at the house was me, my two brothers, and Jennifer. The adults trusted us to just play video games and hang out and whatnot. Where was Beyonce then? *singing* You must not know 'bout me..*end singing* When they left I was like, yes!! Let's paint a picture. I'm 16. She's 16. We're home with no adults. And you want us to just play video games? Uh...okay. If that helps you sleep at night. If all we ended up doing was playing video games, it wouldn't be for lack of trying to engage in other, more gratifying activities.

At first we were all downstairs because that's where the video game setup was. My brothers were 14 at the time and were heavily into video games. I still played but that was not what I had planned to use that time for. I started my plan. I asked Jennifer to show me the rest of the house--mainly the upstairs. She agreed. So we looked in the people's bedroom and at the other rooms upstairs. We went into one of the bedrooms to just chill. I asked her what she wanted to do. She's like I don't know. I'm thinking to myself, well I have an idea. Before I jumped into anything I was trying to figure out how much she had done at this point in her life. So I asked some probing questions. Basically I determined that she was a virgin and was scared to take the leap. I didn't even press that issue. I decided that I should just seek some oral pleasure.

I asked her to do it. She acted like I asked her to slap her mom. She started on this tirade about how she thinks that's nasty and blah blah blah. I was blowed, but more than that I couldn't think straight or clearly because a good bit of the blood that oxygenates my brain had rushed elsewhere. I was hornier than a mug! It was so bad it was about to start hurting. I needed to skeet bad as hell. At this point I'm thinking to myself why the hell would you follow me upstairs if you gonna be acting crazy? This ain't Flip That House. I don't give phuck about what the house looks like. I'm getting desparate at this point. I'm still trying to convince her. I'm bargaining for smaller increments of time like saying just for a few minutes and stuff like that. Still a no go. I needed to be touched so badly that I made a last ditch offer for her to just let me put it on her neck. I don't know where that came from but I just needed to touch something. I was so brick and horny I might've skeeted on her neck as soon as it made contact. She wasn't feeling that either. Needless to say I was deeply disturbed. Good thing we didn't really jump off into anything because it wasn't long after that the adults returned. They questioned us as to why we were upstairs and not downstairs with the boys. We gave some flimsy answer and all was forgiven.

On the ride back home (Ms. Mitchell was driving me and my brothers back to our hotel. About a 40 minute ride) Jennifer asked me if I was mad at her. My reply was simply, "Don't talk to me." I mean, how you gonna play with a sixteen year old boy's horniness like that?

In case you read this, Jennifer, you owe me. You got off the hook that time. Maybe that's why some people end up (finish my thought).

Oh yeah, the thing yesterday, I cussed (cursed) somebody out at work. I have absolutely never cursed someone out. I always say stuff like, "I ought to curse him/her out", but i'm never really serious. First time for everything.

[You're Doing It] Again

Don't you just love Again by John Legend? Just got off the highway. I got another speeding ticket. This time it was for 82 in a 65. Okay. See that's reasonable. No I'm not happy about the ticket, but at least I can understand this one. I didn't say much this time because I was hoping that he'd feel sorry for me and let me go. He didn't let me go but he did reduce the price of the ticket from $175 to $76. Keep in mind the ticket for five miles over is $155.Here's what I thought about. If I'm gonna spend $130 in gas and pay about $100 for a speeding ticket when I drive, then it would be the same as me purchasing a plane ticket. The only thing is I'd have to rent a car once I arrive. The alternative of course is to slow my azz down, but that's probably not gonna happen. I wonder how many points I have on my license. I might need to go to driving school to see if I can get some of those points shaved off my record.Can we all get together and buy JayBee a radar detector?

Anyway, that's not the point of this post. How do you tactfully tell someone to leave you the heck alone? There's someone on my job who has attached themselves to me without my consent. Everytime I look around I'm getting an unsolicited phone call or text message. I know you say, well JayBee you must have given out your number. You'd be correct. I did. I was just being polite though. When I give someone my number I'm not looking for them to call all the time, especially not at first.*Insert quick English lesson. "A lot" is two words.* You know how when you're starting a friendship with someone sometimes you talk a whole lot and at first and then it fizzles and sometimes things take time to build before they really pick up. Well, this person has created this alternate reality where it's like we've known each other for a long time and I still feel like I don't know him. *notice the pronoun--I did that for ya'll who relish the details* He'll invite me to hang out and I'm like giving him the brush off. When I finally agree to hang out, it's like it becomes front page news. Why you got to run around the job telling people that we hung out or letting it "slip" in casual conversations with other people that we're supposed to be doing something?

I don't have to tell people on my job what my plans are after work. Why do you feel the need to do so? On top of that you make sure that you find a way to be in my face at least twice a day. I mean, ma phucka teach something. Let me do my job and that'll free you up so that you can do your job.

What I resent is when he's running around telling people that we went this place or that place it makes it seem like there's this buddy buddy friendship thing going on and it's clearly not that deep for me. What's lost in translation when he's recounting tales of when we hung out or whatever is how many times I said no before I finally, reluctantly agreed to go anywhere in public with you. It just makes it seem like to others, and we know that JayBee doesn't seek or need external validation, that we're just super cool and in this thing together. That's simply not the context of our relationship. I see you as a colleague. You cannot force a friendship. Am I culpable? Yes, absolutely. Perhaps I did not demarcate the boundary lines in such a way as so be clear just how far I intended to engage him.

I'm annoyed when I walk down the hall and you pop up Again. I'm annoyed when I'm teaching and you interrupt to let me know that you have something to tell me later Again. JUST TELL ME LATER (or don't cause I won't give a phuck anyway). I try to be polite, so I guard my body language and that's perhaps why he doesn't understand that I'm just not feeling this whole trying to be cool thing like he is. I don't need anymore people in my circle (not with all my blog buddies!). I just wanna go to work (not really but I have to), do my job and go the heck back home.

In other news, I saw Tyler Perry's play The Marraige Counselor. Thought it was entertaining. That same Tyler Perry formula, but hey, it works for him. It was my first time going to see one of those live plays. So good to see all my peoples out and about having a good time and not having any arguments. Such a far cry from the night before across town when I heard there was a shooting at that fashion show thing at the Compound. Glad I didn't roll over there.

Are You Serious?

So I'm on my way to see a friend of mine in Durham. We hadn't seen each other in about three months which is rather unusual for us. I was supposed to arrive at 3:30 at the meet up spot but I didn't end up leaving my house til after three and the drive is about forty minutes. It was a little rainy but the drive was going well. A state trooper appeared from out of nowhere and everybody slowed down in homage to the blue lights. Me, as long as I'm not doing anything crazy I'm pretty much gonna maintain my flow. The trooper was in the passing lane and I was behind him. He tapped his brakes and I slowed up and got in the right lane. I was doing about 70 and my car slightly inched ahead of his. Here go the dang lights.

I rode for a minute making faces at him in my rear view mirror, indicative of my shock that he would pull me over. When I came to a stop he started shouting something at me over the loudspeaker. I couldn't understand what he was saying and he just kept shouting the same inaudible command. I thought he was telling me to get off my cell phone but I wasn't talking on it. Finally I was able to make out "bridge" so I figured that he wanted me to pull a little more forward so that we could both be off the bridge. Once I stopped again, he got out and started with the police 101 talk.

Him: Is there any reason why you're going so fast?
Me: I'm only going 70.
Him: Well the speed limit is 65. I'm a state trooper and you were going to pass me.
Me: (indignant-thinking to myself who gives a phuck; you got a car just like i do. cars are meant to go)Who does that?
Him: (frown on his face because he didn't understand)Huh?
Me: Who gives people tickets for going 5 miles over the speed limit?
Him: The speed limit is 65. And why were you on my bumper. Is there any reason why you were following so closely?
Me: I didn't think I was that close.
Him: You were too close. When I tapped my brakes you slowed down.
Me: I slowed down because I thought someone in front of you was slowing down.
Him: License and registration.
Me: (I pause and act like I don't know where my information is and reach in the glove box and hand it to him, but not before I add this)I'm late getting somewhere. Can you expedite this?
Him: (no response just looks and walks to his car)

I whip out the cell phone to tell Tonya that I'm going to be late because I got pulled over. Of course Captain Redneck takes his time writing my ticket. He was probably trying to run my name through all 50 states to see if there was anything he could get me on. If this had been a year ago, he would have been successful. I'm completely legit now. Gots all my papers. When Captain Redneck has returned he gives me the ticket for $155 and tells me my court date, yada yada yada. As he turns to leave we dialogue again.

Me: Let me say this to you.
Him: (He pauses and puts his head back down to the passenger side window)
Me: When you were shouting at me through the loud speaker I couldn't understand what you were saying. I thought you were trying to tell me to get off my phone but I wasn't on the phone. I was very nervous because I don't know if you watch t.v. where you live but I do. I know what white men with guns do to black men when they get stopped and I didn't want you to shoot me.
Him: I wouldn't shoot you unless you shot at me.
Me: (ignoring that b.s. and annoyed at being interrupted)Your tone was very aggressive and I didn't like it. The way you got out of your vehicle was too aggressive as well. I thought you were gonna take out your billy stick and hit me with it. You need to understand in the context of you being a white man with a gun and me being an unarmed black man how I must've felt when you were shouting at me. I didn't want to make any sudden moves. That's why I put my hands up and opened the door when you were shouting because I didn't want to give you any reason to think you needed to shoot me. I still don't see why you stopped me because I was only doing 5 miles over the speed limit.
Him: (sensing where I was going with this)You getting stopped has nothing to do with you being black. You just need to slow down.
Me: Well, I didn't get stopped by officers before I purchased this car.
Him: Just slow down.
Me: (put my car in gear and told him I was leaving. He was still bent over inside my window.)
Him:Be careful when you merge back onto the highway.
Me: **crickets**and an attitude for him making me even later

I really don't think I overreacted and tried to make it something that it wasn't. It angered me that he would be so dismissive because he's never had to walk one mile in my shoes. I do not like the police. (Except for one_man) I have not had good experiences with them. I truly believe that his major reason for stopping me is that he thought I was disrespecting him by passing him when he's a state trooper. Who cares? I had somewhere to go and as a law abiding citizen I don't feel like I have to stop driving because a state trooper is on the road with me. That would be like if I was have an observation and I wasn't teaching hopping up and trying to act like I was doing something. I don't even roll like that. FTDS.

Real Life

Don'tcha just love it when people gas you up and then don't come through? When I went to the job fair a couple of weekends ago, everything seemed positive and a go. I had three schools who seemed genuinely interested, but not a one has phoned me to set up an interview. Two told me that they would schedule the interviews during my spring break which is going on now, although I feel like it's already over. I guess I should phone them, but I don't wanna seem beat. I know I need the job and not them, but I'm not accustomed to having to run somebody down.

I know there are a lot of candidates and some might even be more qualified than me. I typed that, but I find it hard to believe given the extra curricular and leadership experiences that I have had at my current school. The realism is that I don't think many people my age have been trusted to do what I have.

A friend of mine told me that she had a prophetic word for me. I thought to myself, oh brother. Here we go. She assured me that someone would contact me by Tuesday to set something up. Believe you me, I didn't believe her and that in no way contributed to me feeling some type of way about them. She must have studied prophecy the same place as Juanita Bynum.(I know I was wrong for that).

Alas, I'ma put in some calls today to try to secure some interviews. This is so different from me. I am accustomed to being pursued after the initial contact rather than having to be the one in hot pursuit. That translates to other facets of my life as well, but that's another post.

I did something nice last night. I went to dinner with some friends. On the way out of the restaurant I saw the hostess looking over some PowerPoint slides. I asked her what she was studying. What do you know? She was studying accounting and one in our party is an accountant at a bank. I introduced them and had them exchange contact information. The friend who is an accountant asked if I even knew that girl. I told her no, but I'm Captain Save-A-Hoe it doesn't matter. She's graduating soon and you already have a job. If there's an opening you all have enough time to get to know each other between now and then so that if she's okay, you can let her use your name as a reference (assuming her name is worth something to the company). I need every one's help. I cannot single handedly uplift my race by myself. Every time you are in a position to refer someone for employment or a good deal or whatever, I implore you to do so.

I almost forgot about my brother. Question: Why did he get my mother* to get him a loan for school and then quit school as soon as the loan came through? Answer: He's a trifling negro, that's why. Meanwhile my mother has to pay for the loan. She asked him what he was planning to do as far as payment and his reply was he hadn't thought about it. He's also planning to move to Jacksonville in May with his wife who is supposed to be going to law school. When I met her at the wedding she didn't seem that smart to me and I'm usually a good read when it comes to stuff like that. I smell smarts like a bee smells honey. (Like my 4th grade analogy?) Anyway, she graduates from college May 10th and they plan to be in Jacksonville to move in on May 12th. Notice I haven't mentioned where he'll work or live because he doesn't know and neither do I. When my sister called me (really to ask me to borrow $$$ - which I gave her the brush off) to ask me how I felt about it I told her that I have hot water and thoroughly enjoy the advantages that electricity provides. If he's willing to move not knowing where he's going to lay his head then let him do him cause umma do me. I could go on and on about this situation but when I think too much about it I just wanna slap a ni-. See, he done almost made me resurrect the word we buried. I'ma let that go.

*You clicked the link didn't you? Get of my momma jock stalker!

Continued

Day 3 - So now it's Saturday. My first session started at 8:15 a.m. I woke up around 7:48 (kinda weird how I remember times so exactly) and got dressed. I walked out my room at 8:15 headed to the session. Nothing to report from the sessions. I started getting antsy around 5ish and called Michelle to see where she was. I called twice and got no answer. If I call you twice and don't get an answer, you're as good as left. I hopped on the train to run a few errands around town. I needed some shampoo and stuff like that. At some point she called to see where I was and was disappointed that I "left her." I told her that I called twice, but she said she didn't get the calls. While I was out I saw this older black guy on the street passing out campaign flyers in support of Hillary Clinton. The other people on the street to whom he offered the flyers were quite disrepectful to this man. Some even went so far as to curse him out because he was supporting the candidate of his choice. The people were making derogatory remarks about him and insisted that he was supporting the wrong candidate. I need to mention that the people acting up like this all looked like me, just so that you can paint that mental picture of the scene.

I was still tired from the night before but agreed to an area called the West End to grab a bite to eat. I thoroughly enjoyed my meal. Prior to arriving at the restaurant there were a whole lot of people trying to hustle stuff on the streets--flowers, horse rides, candy and food. It was unreal. I can't recall how many times I said no that night. Since I was already beat when we got back to the hotel I just crashed for the night.

Day 4 -Michelle left this morning. It's Sunday. What does any good Baptist boy do on Sunday mornings? You guessed it. I went to church. I looked up a couple of churches on a black church directory website but then I remembered about the Potter's House under the effacious leadership of the renowned Bishop T.D. Jakes. I called a cab to take me. It was almost $30 one way. I went ahead and did it since I don't know when the next time is that I'll ever return to Dallas. The cab driver was wildin'. He was going off because he said the bellmen downstairs wouldn't give him the "good" trips like to the airport or the Galleria Mall where he would make $30-40 one way. The bellman approached the window once I was inside the cab and asked the cab driver if he had a number. I wasn't clear on what they were talking about, but I did know that he wasn't really asking him for a number. Those cabs are out there every single day. Why would he not already know the numbers to all the cab services who frequent the hotel? The cab driver later explained to me that it was code to ask if he intended on bribing the bellman to get one of the good jobs. The cab driver shared with me that he was Muslim and participating in any form of bribery is against his religion. I told him it wasn't necessarily bribery so much as it is the way business is transacted in a capitalistic society. If you want preferrential treament, you pay a premium. People who fly first class are not bribing Delta for the good seats; they are paying the cost.

Once I arrived at the church there was a seemingly never ending flow of people from teh church to the parking lot. It looked like a number that no man could number*. I got there in between services. I had to wait about 30 minutes before the next service began. The service was pretty good although Bishop Jakes didn't preach. He hurt his back in the earlier service so they just showed the DVD of him preacing from the earlier service. The guy who was MCing the service was pretty funny.

Day 5 - I woke up Monday knowing that this was my last day in town and realized that I hadn't done any of the tourist stuff. I went to the infamous grassy knoll and the book depository from where the shot that killed JFK allegedly came. The grassy knoll area is so small. I thought it was going to be the expansive space, but it's really not. I went downtown to another mall and this guy who was selling on the street directed me to some other touristy (I made that up) stuff that in which I might be interested. When I made it in that night a friend of mine who I had called earlier in the day called me back to let me know he actually was coming into Dallas for a few days. I wish he would have arrived sooner, but alas. We kept missing each other, but we met up later that night for drinks. The time got away from us and I drug my tired azz back to my hotel knowing that when I awoke I'd have to pack and start the process of getting back to the boro.

My luggage didn't arrive with me and I just got it this morning around 12:48 a.m. from the delivery service. I had to bum a ride to work yesterday. On top of that the friend who was supposed to take me home didn't come through. To say I was pissed would be the understatement of the decade. I know in friendship and relationships we don't do things to keep score, but the one time I actually need you you don't come through. That does not a happy James make. Although she knew in advance that I needed her to pick me up she texted me on the day I was to return to town to tell me that she had a meeting. Not even a phone call--a text. I can forgive her, but it's gonna cause me to pull back. Not that I'm out for vengance, but she better not need anything anytime soon.

*There's a prize for the first person who can tell me who made that statement.

I Got the Hook Up

When I went downstairs this morning after a rather event less night, the living room carpet, kitchen and bathroom were soaked. I discovered that some kinda way the toilet downstairs had sprung a leak. Where the toilet meets the ground--you know where the caulking is--there was a steady stream of water just running out. Talk about freak occurrences. I called the maintenance emergency line and after about 20 minutes they sent someone. Did those m effas hear me say "emergency"? I left while ole boy did his thizzle to fix the problem. By the way, I was expecting the regular maintenance dude but instead I got a white boy who looked like he had just done meth or was on his way for a hit as soon as he finished.

I'm out doing the Saturday morning errand thing. I dropped my car at the car wash. Call me old fashioned, but I don't do those AutoBell type car washes. No machines on my fiberglass. Only real live hands can get near it. When I got out the car these two workers approached me trying to get me to have my car compounded which costs like $150-200. I was like not for that price. I've been getting along just fine. I mean, the car was in desperate need of a makeover, but I just hadn't planned on putting that kind of money into it today just on a random Saturday errand trip. We negotiated on a flat rate of $100 to do the job. He did a little test area on the trunk for me before I decided to let him do his thing. I was pleased with that so I got him to do it for me. I walked about three blocks to the barber shop.

When I got there it was thick as it was Saturday morning, but luckily my barber only had the guy whose hair he was cutting in front of me. After my barber brought sexy back, I went to the ATM (still walking) to get the cash I was gonna need to pay the dude working on the car. Understand that I got from the tone of the two dudes' voices and the fact that they pulled me to the side that this was going to be some under the table/side hustle type stuff. When he was finished with the car, I asked just to be sure if I was supposed to pay him or the guy at the cash register. He told me to pay him and to just get in the car. Mind you, the dude behind the cash register is now outside with us watching this go down. I'm sure he suspected that his coworker was involved in something unscrupulous because he had been watching Mr. Compound work on one car for about three hours and dude behind the counter knows how much money it costs for that service. He knew that no one had been in to pay for that type of service, so I'm sure the sum of those circumstances raised his ire. Anyway, I got in the car thinking to myself, "I'm taking orders from a stranger. This has got to be illegal." Before I got in the car I had made a motion to take the money out. That's when he told me to get in the car and he'd get it from the other side. Again, I'm thinking that this is weird because he's orchestrated how to complete this transaction without seeming, in his mind, suspicious. I laid the money on the space between the gear shift and the arm rest where the ashtray is and he was wiping down the exterior of the car. He opened the door like he was wiping down the interior of the car and swiped the cashed, asked me if I was pleased with his work, I said yeah and he kept it moving. I drove off quite amused knowing that I had participated in this deception. The realism is, though, that the car looked 346,764.92 times better than when I took it in there.

I grabbed something to eat from K&W. The couple in front of me looked kinda sad. They were black and had about five children, one of whom was in a carrying thing (I can't remember the name, but you know what I'm talking about). Ole dude ordered multiple entrees for his plate. K&W is ala carte like Picadilly or Morrison's or whatever they have in your neck of the woods. Back home my living room had been totally rearranged (read: messed up). The maintenance dude moved stuff to one side of the room revealing the poor job I had done of vacuuming regularly. There's also this blower down there that is supposed to be helping the carpet dry faster. They moved my table and chairs in the dining area as well. I wonder if they expect me to move that stuff back or if they plan to move it back when they come pick up that fan.

A friend of mine I'm sure is quite upset with me because I wouldn't take any of her calls yesterday. Sometimes you're just not in the mood to talk. Nothing personal.

I'm a visual learner so here are pics of the whip and my ransacked living area. I threw in an extra. The last one is of my immediate family at Christmas. You finally get to see him*. At this time he's blind and a double amputee.





Left to right
1st row: My younger brother and him
2nd row: My older sis, my mom and myself - Don't I look like I don't belong? I was uncomfortable because I really don't do him and don't like to be in his presence for extended periods of time. By the way in this pic I'm around 145 lbs. down from the 171. Now I'm at 140. I'm not going much further.

Let My People Go

I'm sick of this school. I need to get hired in the A. I can't wait until I can move. These Negroes get on my effin nerves. I was late Tuesday. When I got to my classroom Mr. G was in my room with my students getting ready to make a phone call to someone. I don't know who he was getting ready to call. I was maybe ten minutes late. I come on in and start class and he slips out the door. No problem. Later on that day he sees me and makes a comment that I need to fix my alarm clock. Why *plural form of the word that we buried* gotta try to be slick out the mouth? Since he gotta put his mouth on me about me being a few minutes late, I decided not to come to work the next day at all. Was I being petty? Maybe because I know I'm leaving I just don't care anymore. One day I'll be able to say I'm free at last. I need to be out of this toxic environment.

Action!

It is difficult for other people to understand why I'm not all gung-ho about going home for the holidays. I realize that most people want nothing more than to be with their families during this time of year. However, for me, I'm not feeling the holidays like that. As a matter of fact, I choose not to go home very often because I have so many issues with some of the things going on there. Perhaps most people grew up in with a nice home environment. That is not the context from which I draw my lived experience. Moreover, I believe that it is because most people had a "normal" home life, that they find it hard to understand when someone from a dysfunctional situation chooses to distance themselves from home.

For one, my mother's husband (until I see a blood test I won't call him my f____r), has had both legs amputated and is blind and still calls himself "pastoring" a church. He needs to sit down somewhere. How can someone in his condition effectively lead a flock of parishoners? On top of the health issues, he has so many psychological issues that it is not funny. I dont' have the emotional energy right now to go into detail, but suffice it to say ole dude is crazy. The sad part is that he thinks it's everyone else--a hallmark of people in his mental state.

The reason most people cannot wrap their minds around someone adamantly refusing to be involved in home life is because of what I call "The Script." Society has written a stage play in which our roles are defined, complete with stage directions. According to the script, any dutiful son should be home with family, sitting around the fireplace reminiscing on days gone by. I'd much rather skip meals for three days. (Anyone who knows me knows how much I love to eat.) People who deviate from the script are labeled as social misfits by society. I do not apologize for deviating from the script. If anyone had a home life like I had, and I realize that other people had it so much worse, then they would understand why I choose to exit stage left, rather than move in closer.

I have no desire to have a relationship with that man. He keeps calling me and I keep ignoring his calls. Last night I was duped into answering the phone. I have his number stored as Don't Answer, but for some reason I looked at the digits instead of the words and hit the talk button. As soon as the interrogation began I had regretted not reading, after all, reading is fundamental. The question about why I haven't returned calls came up. So as not to have a heated discussion in front of my company I simply said I'd been busy. Of course, he didn't like that answer and asked me if I was angry with him. That's the understatement of the freakin' decade. I didn't even have language to have that conversation with him so I had to end it so that my attitude wouldn't be bad, since I was on my way out.

When I talk to some of my friends about how I feel they try to tell me how I should feel and what I should do. I am not interested in how you think I should feel or what you think I should do. That's why I rarely discuss it because most people simply cannot wrap their minds around the decisions that I have made with respect to this situation. Their advice always heads toward trying to talk to him and getting over it, etc. I really can't be mad at them because those are the types of answers that should be given to someone based on what is printed in the script. What they don't understand is that the copy of the script that I received was markedly different from the ones that they read. One of my friends claims to "get it" but at the same time always remarks about how she thinks I'm wrong for this and that. That means that you DON'T get it!! What annoys me is that people want me to detail some life-shattering event that caused me to feel such resentment toward him. Since no single event exists (i.e. molestation, abuse, drug use,etc.) that would be considered "bad" enough for me to feel this way, people dismiss how I feel. Again, the script dictates that there had to be some capital offense before you can say that a parent is not worthy of your time, rather than the sum of all the years of your existence, with every passing day spent with a person more miserable that the previous.

When I am done with someone I am done. Come hell or high water. It is over. Finished. (Notice the pattern 5-3-1). The part I hate most is that I have withdrawn from my mother as well. She likes to encourage me to speak to him as well. That type of behavior only makes me reluctant to call her as well. As a matter of fact, it makes me resentful on some level, as she should clearly understand why I feel and behave this way. She's just a Christian though. It doesn't matter what someone has done, she believes in forgiveness. I do too. However, I subscribe to a brand of forgiviness that does not require that I still interact with the offender. I can wash my hands of you and be fine. Truthfully, when he's no longer in the picture I'll make up for this lost time between my mother and I. Given his health, I don't think it should be much longer.

Coach Carter

I got up early and put on a nice outfit because on that day we were going to be having an assembly at school. Someone had arranged for out students to meet the real Coach Carter. When the students found out about it, some of them thought that Samuel L. Jackson was coming. I had to remind them that movies are not real and the people playing in the movies are just actors.

For some reason I had to go by the ATM this particular morning. I don't remember the reason why now. After I got some $$$ I continued up the same road the ATM was on, which is not my normal route. It was raining but not too hard. An officer came up behind me and got closer to my bumper than necessary. I knew then that he was running my tag to find out who I was. Driving while black is a mutha. He stops me. I pull over and he comes up to tell me that my tag is expired. I tell him that I think he is incorrect because I had already paid the taxes on my car.

Where I'm originally from (Georgia) when you pay the taxes you get a new decal. I did not realize in NC that you pay taxes and a separate decal fee. Ignorance of the law, however, is no excuse. He finds out that I also had a revoked license. I knew my license was revoked but I just hadn't found the time to handle the paperwork associated with getting it reinstated. It got revoked because I had gotten a ticket earlier. I paid the fine but did not send the receipt back to Georgia, where I was still maintaining a license at the time, even though I was living in NC.

He tells me to get out of the car so that he can arrest me for driving with a revoked license and having an expired tag. I am disappointed but not shocked. I knew I was getting arrested as soon as he pulled me over. I get out of the car and he puts the handcuff on while other cars speed by me on their way to wherever. I tell him that I'm sick and I don't need to be in the rain. He says he'll try to make it quick. He checks my pockets and inquires about the contents. I had some flash drives/jump drives/thumb drives (I've heard so many names for them) in my pocket. He asked what they were. I told him, but he seemed like he wasn't sure about my response. He asked where I worked. I told him I worked for the county. I was certainly not going to reveal to him that I worked for the school system so that he could try to make this a bigger deal than it was.

At some point he led me to his cruiser and had me sit down and told me he was going to search my vehicle. All I could think about was this white cop was going to plant some drugs in my car (Jaguar) to try to get a promotion on the force or something. Maybe I overanalyze but that's all I could think about. Plus if he did plant the drugs how would I convince anyone that the drugs weren't mine? He didn't find any drugs but he came back with a knife that I had in the armrest. He told me that I was carrying a concealed weapon, but that he would not add that to the charge. Somewhere in the midst of all that was going on he called another officer for backup. Mind you I'm 5'6" 152 lbs. Why the fuck did he need backup? Plus I was sick and I thought I was fly(see paragraph one).

They towed the car to some tow place way far away from where I live. I rode in the car to the local jail downtown. I told the officer while I was in the car that the cuffs were too tight. He told me that he knew what they felt like because they have to wear them as a part of their training. I'm thinking if you know mutha*#2&#@! take them off me. When we got to the garage under the jail we had to wait in the car because they were filming a commercail in the jail. The officer joked saying that I could be on tv. He asked me if I wanted to be in the commercial. I very curtly replied no and I told him I didn't think it was funny. He got out of the car after a while and led me inside. I had to sit on a bench and he handcuffed me to a bar that was on the back of the bench like I was a member of a cow herd. I told him that I did not want to be cuffed to the bar. He said his sargeant would get him if he didn't. I asked him if his sargeant had plans to come by here at 7:45 on a Tuesday morning. He didn't respond. I continued trying to pressure him to not cuff me. I asked him if he had checked out my shoes. I then followed up with do you think I'm going to run and scuff up my shoes? He still cuffed me to the bar anyway.

He started doing the paperwork and I was given a chance to contact a bailbondsman. I called a bondsman, but I still had to go upstairs to be booked and fingerprinted. After I was processed they made me answer a million questions and put me in a holding cell. I was in the cell for at least 2 hours. It only had a bench and a toilet sink thing that was all in one hooked together. Finally they released me when my bailbondsman arrived. I got my belongings and called someone from work to come and get me.

Luckily for me things at work were okay because we were having the assembly that day. If we weren't I would have had to call and tell them I couldn't make it for whatever reason. I really think all this happened because a white cop saw a young handsome black male driving what he thinks is an expensive ride.

V-8

I'm typically not always this forward but sometimes some things just need to be said. I had the worst sex that I've ever had last night. It was sooo bad. One of my idiosyncrasies is that I'm not really touchy feely, but in the bedroom I expect lots of touchy feely/affectionate bordering on dirty talk, petting panting etc. Well it didn't go down like that. I had not seen this girl in like months and months but I didn't really expect things to go any differently. She was almost lifeless and completely emotionless. I almost asked her why she even let me come through. I got up from the bed WITHOUT getting a nut and got in my car and drove back to my hotel.

Quick education: The difference between men and women is that when women have sex they may have an orgasm. However, when a man has sex he is guaranteed to have an orgasm. Let me restate-I walked away without getting my rocks off and drove home. I'm not going to bore you with any of the dialogue between she and I (I was bored and I was there) but I remember the ride home last night as extremely funny.

It was so bad that I almost don't want to have sex anymore until I get married. I'm not exaggerating. It was that bad! If you've seen Waiting to Exhale there's a scene when this dude is with Lela Rochan and he's pumping away and she's looking so uninvolved/blowed because ole dude thought he was beatin' it up. The director lets us hear her thoughts as he's pumping and grinding and whatnot and she thinks, "I coulda had a V-8." So that's my new nickname for her--V-8.

In other news I took some me time to relax. I'm in the ATL, which is where I plan to move next year. It's been quite enjoyable up until this point with the exception of V-8. I have never been more repulsed.

Prior to this I spent two weeks in the 'boro attending a workshop where I was subtly and not so subtly insulted. The purpose of the workshop as I understood it was to provide strategies to help increase test scores. What they actually did was treat us (about 70 math teachers at failing schools) like we didn't have degrees in math. The first day the dude "taught" us how to solve equations! That offended my sensibilities, but because they were giving us $4000 for it I was able to take it just like I planned to take them duckets!

Also my mother's husband got his other leg cut off the other day. I don't know if I mentioned on here about the right one getting cut off, but if I didn't just know that now they are both gone. You have to be careful how you treat people or bad things will happen to you.

The realism is that one of the biggest lies ever told is that sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt. For my biblical scholars we know that life and death are in the power of the tongue. If you can speak life or doom to a situation, how then can you not all the more say things that are a minimum hurtful? I mean life/death vs. hurting someone's feelings. I don't think that there is any comparison. I know this is kinda random but I needed to say that.