Adolecent Ignorance--Actually, We Were In College

We were bored so we decided to get off campus and see what we could get into. Although we were all 20+ we decided to go (word we buried)-knocking. In case you’re not familiar with this, you just run up to people’s homes, knock on the door or beat on the window really hard, run off somewhere where you can see them and they can’t see you and laugh when they come to the door looking for whomever they thought was at the door. Sounds right foolish when you put it on paper, but for us it was amusing. So that was the plan this particular Thursday night, which is college night at one of the local haunts, but we decided we weren’t in the mood for that.

We headed to Teon’s house since he was a native and parked. We chose to walk a few streets over from where he lived so we’d be somewhere we people in the neighborhood might not know who he was and tell his mom. We began knocking on doors and running. It was all good until this one dude didn’t think it was funny and he fired a gun in the air. It was just a warning shot, but it scared the hell out of me. The sight of the spark that the gun made in the still of that crisp autumn night is forever indelibly etched in my mind. Think I didn’t show Carl Lewis up that night? I ran like it was no tomorrow. All three of us did. When we stopped running we huddled on a street near a wooded area to catch our breath and to each express how frightening it was to hear and see the flicker of that gun. This is not the first time we had engaged in behavior like this, but this was the first time someone fired a shot. The most someone had ever done up until this day was throw something through their window. That particular night when we walked off, we were laughing like, that’s their dumb azz cause they gotta fix that window.

Anyway, that night after we caught our breath we still hadn’t had enough, but we decided to table the (word we buried)-knocking for the night. At the time not too far from the wooded area where we huddled the land was being prepared for construction. You know how they push that dirt around for like 2 months before you actually see any pipes in the ground or concrete blocks? Yeah, that’s what it looked like. Behind that was an old folks home that had already been built. There was one of those big dump trucksout there. Antwan decided to get in the truck (at me and Teon’s behest) and start it up and run it into the old folks’ home. Someone had left the keys in the truck so that’s how he was gonna be able to start it. He tried to turn the engine over like three times but he couldn’t get it to come on. It would make the sound like it was going to crank, but it wouldn’t completely fire. Apparently, the people in the old folks home were watching us because we saw the blinds flutter and soon heard sirens.

We ran like hell across the dirt that was there for the grocery store and into the wooded area that we huddled at earlier. There were like three cop cars because we saw the blue lights as we were dipping off in the woods. Of course I think I’m smarter than the police so I was like we need to run in the water so in case they have dogs they will lose our scent. Let a joker watch one episode of Matlock. Anyway, we heard footsteps that were not our own. We figured the police were on foot trying to scare us. There weren’t probably really gonna traipse through the woods to find us but they were definitely gonna try to rattle us. But me, I’m not gonna be rattled—even when I’m in the wrong. To a fault I can be wrong and strong and think nothing of it. We were navigating the woods but being ever so careful as not to make too much noise. We were signally each other and all trying to make sure that we all made it out of this thing safely. Eventually we no longer heard the additional footsteps so we figured the coast was clear. We ran up out of the woods and got back on the main street. (Ladynaynay this happened on the corner of Rock Quary and Raleigh Blvd just as a point of reference.)

Me still over analyzing things and thinking that I was “on the run” suggested that we all switch shirts and try to make ourselves look different in case the po-po rolled past looking for three black guys who fit our description. The realism is that if they did roll past they still would have known that it was us, but in my mind I thought I was one-upping the man. We just needed take our azzes home and do some studying.

Once we got back to T’s house we did ride back up to the scene of the crime and the police were still there. There was only one car now, but we really felt like we had beaten the man. We rolled on the Waffle House, (by the way if you don’t know bout the Waffle House shame one you) got a bite to eat and tripped about the events of the day.

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.

A Stranger In My House

Everything was going as well as it could until I turned 15. The summer before freshman year of high school I tried everything that your parents tell you to stay away from. Smoking, drinking and sex. I enjoyed two of the three, hated one and didn’t get serious about one of the two until I got to college and the other one of the two I got more serious about toward the middle of college. That’s a bootleg riddle. First person to get it right gets—let me see…..the assurance of knowing they were right. Meanwhile, not the point of the story, but yeah, I was as the old people say “smellin’ myself.” I became more contentious at home, argumentative with my parents at times, especially him*.

Although a lot had happened and my parents had numerous reasons to be sick of me, there was an incident that prompted the séance. I was home chillin’ cause it was the summer time. I didn’t attend any enrichment camps or anything like that. That’s why some people have an advantage over others. They expose their children to things that are going to expand their minds. Maybe if I had been at a camp or something, then the incident wouldn’t have happened. Old people say an idle mind is the devil’s workshop. There was a neighborhood girl in whom I was interested. Not like I was in love or anything remotely close to that—I was 15 years old. You know what I was thinking about. So we began hanging out. Hanging out led to sexual talk. One day I remember on the playground (we were just up there talkin’) I pretended that I had to use the bathroom. I was ready to see how she would react to seeing it. I whipped it out and just held it for a while. Of course nothing came out cause I really didn’t have to use the bathroom. I was like oh well I guess I didn’t have to go all the while I was getting an erection because here I was with this girl I liked with my piece in my hand kinda just sitting in this awkward silence as she looked at me and I looked at her. As I was about to put it away, she said that I didn’t have to. We exchanged a little back and forth and then ended up at my house in my bedroom. T.I. You know what it is.

Of course we had sex on my brother’s bed—not mine. I guess that was kinda triflin’. We had been going for maybe about seven or eight minutes before we heard a car door slam. Actually I didn’t hear the car door. She did. When she told me she heard something I was telling her she didn’t hear anything cause I wanted to finish what I had started. Thinking back on it now, there was no condom involved either. So stupid. Honestly, condoms didn’t become involved in sex for me until I was like 22. It’s just God’s grace that I don’t have a kid or anything grandma’s washing powder can’t get off. Anyway, she kinda pushed me off her while urging me to look out the window. I did. It was him* carrying grocery bags. I had about 7 seconds to get her out of the house, get up front, spray something just in case and act like nothing had happened. Needless to say I couldn’t pull that off.

We both ran up to the den in the front of the house. Our den had a door on it so she closed and locked the door just before he* entered the house. He started bamming on the door telling us to open the door. I was seated across the room farthest away from the door. She was sitting right next to the door in a chair but was frozen with fear. I kept telling her to open the door but she just kept shaking her head no. Finally I got up, did the flip up in my shorts (I think the fellas will know what I’m sayin’) and opened the door. He* started with the 20 questions. What was all that noise? What’s going on? I heard ya’ll running. He’s* asking and answer his* own questions. Nesha decided to say that we were in the back playing my keyboard. I’m thinking to myself this broad is sooooo stupid. My adapter had been broken for like three months so there was no way in hell we were playing the keyboard. He went to the back to test the keyboard and surveyed the room. Somewhere in the middle of this Nesha was dismissed and he told me that he didn’t want her back in our house ever again. When he came back he said that the adapter was still broken and the bed was messed up. My clever story was that we were wrestling. (We were, kinda). He* didn’t buy it and he made me do manual labor. Anyone who knows me knows how much I hate pulling weeds and shit like that. I had to wash all the cars too and cut the grass. I hate that kinda shit. Hire someone ma phucka.

Later that evening he* called my mom who was in Tacoma, WA, at the time to tell her what happened. I was so pissed off about him calling her. I could give a phuck less about what he thought, but I highly respect my mother and want her to have a good opinion of me. I had already been in a lot of trouble because of my mouthiness. Basically I was just acting grown. I had something to say about everything. When she got back, they came up with this bright idea to have an intervention to “save me” from what I’m not sure—maybe the devil.

Like I said, getting caught in the house was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Truthfully I never would have gotten caught if he* wasn’t stealing company time by grocery shopping and bringing food home. It’s really his* fault. Ma phucka. So at the intervention they called the whole family together. There were six of us. Four siblings and my mom and him*. These people are ultra religious so of course we go to the Bible to start the lashing. I remember them having some prepared notes to make sure they covered all my list of offenses and whatnot. They read off all the infractions, which were numerous. After the reading of the charges against me they read some verses from the Bible. The one that sticks out the most was “Why do the heathen rage?” He* even had a book by the same title and pulled some stuff from there to tell me why I was such a heathen and why I was raging (acting out). Basically they said it was a demonic spirit that had me bound and that’s why I was being so bad and that every time I did something else I was feeding the demon and making it stronger. They had had enough and were going to try to pray it out of me. My mom said her piece, which was much softer but she was very concerned about the person I was turning into. I knew that this was not my mom’s idea, but she went along with it I guess to appease him*. Ma phucka.

They even sung some church songs. I don’t remember what they sang but it was almost like a mini church service minus the offering. As they were talking I remember having something like an out-of-body experience. I kinda looked around at the five faces staring at me and the two faces doing the talking/preaching/teaching/seancing/casting-out-demoning and I was like these ma phuckas are really crazy. Like I knew before that they had some idiosyncrasies, but now I felt like these people were CERTIFIABLE. Don’t get me wrong. I’m crazy ‘bout my mama, but I thought her going along with this was not a good idea as this “intervention” or whatever was a bit extreme. The whole thing was absolutely surreal. I was just sitting in the room like this cannot be happening. I wondered what my real family was like and if I had been switched at birth. I mean, okay I was wildin’ out a little bit, but seriously, all this was unnecessary. At certain times while they were talking they would ask me questions. I wouldn’t answer. Of course this made them mad and they were saying the demon won’t let him talk. I was thinking how crazy they had to be to think that something was keeping me from talking. I wasn’t speaking because I couldn’t believe what was happening. I just felt so out of place. There was a stranger in my house. It took a while to figure out, but the realism was that the stranger was me.

Ever since that day things were a little different. We’ve never discussed it from that day to this one, and until now I had not relieved it again. It was one of the defining moments of my youth because I realized how people would use the Bible as a weapon against you and believe that they are justified. To this day I’m awfully leery of someone who always references the Bible. Don’t get me wrong. I go to church most Sundays and I enjoy it. It’s just I think of people who do this kinda stuff as fanatics. Just like when I ask someone how they are doing and they tell me blessed and highly favored. BREAKING NEWS: This just in. You can be saved and answer “fine” when someone asks how you’re doing. You won’t lose your salvation.

I kinda stopped giving them so much trouble after that but only because I didn’t want to sit through another cast out demons/bring down the strongholds ceremony.

Just a thought

You cannot choose your parents. Here's a question for parents everywhere.

• If you had to prepare a "resume" of your accomplishments, everything you have to offer a child, would your child/children choose you to be their parent?

If the answer is no, then you need to do something differently.

I think I want to tell the story of a seance that my parents had for me when I was 15. It wasn't really a seance, rather it was more like an intervention. I just like to say the word seance. I might post it tomorrow. Gotta get some zzs.

Drop 'Em

I believe that there is value in being honest and transparent. I came to terms with something this weekend that I have never admitted before. My
best friend told me that I carried myself like this, but I was always dismissive of the assertion.

I was on the telephone with a friend talking about this whole job search thing. He was telling me not to worry, it'll work out, you know, the standard stuff. Somewhere in the middle of the conversation I just blurted out that when I walk in the room I expect draws to drop. I was driving at the time, but immediately after saying it in the atmosphere I was stunned and motionless. That's the first time I ever admitted to anyone that I might have a slight complex. I'm still not 100% sure what to call it, but it is something.

That's why this job thing has been bothering me so much. Heretofore I have not had to do very much to get stuff. God's favor has been with me. Now, I don't believe that I've somehow lost His favor, I just think that I'm realizing that everything is not going to just fall into my lap on the strength of favor. Just a little background so that you'll understand where this unwarranted sense of entitlement came from. I went to college on a full academic scholarship for which I did not apply. A recruiter came to my school and asked me if I was interested. I told him yes and the rest was history. I did fill out some paper work later, but he came to me. When I got my job I went to the Human Resources office and filled out an application and asked to speak to a hiring representative. We spoke briefly and she began to fawn over me (I thought she was going to orgasm) and immediately set up an interview for me with a principal who she thought I'd be perfect for. I went to the interview, got my references checked while I sat and was offered the job on the spot. That's what I expect. When I go places it doesn't matter what the policies are, sometimes, I'm able to fanagle my way around them and "sweet talk" people into bending the rules. Don't ask me why I do this or even why I'm able to. It's a gift I guess.

All that has put me where I am now. For the first time in my life things are not really moving at a pace that I like and I have absolutely NO control over that. This is definitely a different look for me, but it's for my growth and development. A part of my introspection and reflection has been to adopt and ascribe to the wisdom contained in the serenity prayer. I think this will be the last post that seems like I'm complaining about this whole job thing. The realism is I think I'm growing as a person inasmuch as I was able to admit the aforementioned to myself. Words really have power; it wasn't until I spoke those words in the atmpsphere, however crude as they were, that I accepted the fact that I like people to swoon over me. Maybe I'm just ego tripping.

I'll edit this later. I just needed to get it on paper--well you know what I mean.

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!

Traveler's Anonymous

My name is James and I have a problem. I'm a chronic traveler. I don't know what it is but nothing gives me more pleasure than to just pick a spot, even if I don't know anyone there and take off in search of adventure. Right now I'm at a spa in south Florida. Crazy thing is none of my friends roll like me. It doesn't bother me to just up and go somewhere. We're only going to live once. They are such lames.