Rosa Lee Ingram (1938-2009)

Ironic is that today marks my 700th post, however I am not writing about what I may have wanted to. In 2008 I lost my Granny Hazel, the woman that taught me that with the use of kindness and a smile, you could chop a person up like Hannibal Lecter. This year, a few days before my Granny Virgie’s Birthday, I lost her; the woman who gave me the backbone to know and not think I was great and should only lead as opposed to follow or be successful. This Morning, at 243 am central time, I lost my aunt Rosa Lee, my granny Virgie eldest daughter and my mom’s big sister, less than a month after my granny’s death; she taught me how to read and the value thereof.

My Granny Virgie the week before thanksgiving and now my aunt Rosa, basically a week before Christmas. Now my mother has on sister left. She lost her brother, my uncle who was the baby in 2004. I remember that day for I found him in his bed. Which means out side of the last two in our family matriarch, I am the eldest man remaining with four other in my generation remaining, with two of us, my cousin and myself having two kids each.

The last time I saw my Aunt it was during my Granny’s funeral in Memphis, I drove her in her Cadillac to the service. She was in good spirits seeing that she had lived with my Granny all of her life and that her sisters including mom had been taking care of her. It was if a burden had been lift to live her life again. I just didn’t know it would be the last time I saw her. She was the first to go to college in my family – Rust in Mississippi where she studied education and became a teacher with a focus on reading education. She was so dedicated that in Memphis, in the late 50’s, she was arrested for using a library that was meant for whites only. In fact I remember seeing that picture of her and her friends from the newspaper in several history books.

My Granny was married when she was 16 and had my Aunt Rosa when she was 17. She was married to my grandfather until the day he died. She used to tell me that they married for peanut butter - meaning that they would be together even if they had to eat just peanut butter. Which is one reason I may not have a wife as of yet because of the standard she imprinted in my mind at a young age. I think that is why she and aunt Rosa Lee were so close, being only 17 years apart, they were more like sisters.

Although she was 71, I never looked at her as being old. But guess she was, I used to hate being a little kid having to go with her to Helen of Memphis where my family bought all of their fur coats or to Nelson Endicott – our family jeweler. I would only remember being the only boy and us the only blacks in those places at that time. When my mother called me this morning I knew she was gone and could not sleep the entire night before her call after she told me the Doctor’s said she had fluid on the lungs and my mom said she had stopped eating. I was supposed to call her that night; my mom felt like my Granny, she would start to eat again if I asked her to do so. I did not make the call and did not get the chance to hear her voice again. Now the Klan is down to eleven in the bloodline.

I just want to tell my aunt, who corrected my speech each time I mad a mistake that love her and want to remind folks of what is really important and that is the love that is evinced between the families. No bond is greater and no gift is equal to that of giving someone special a piece of your heart. I am hurting but I am still blessed for having the family unit that have. I have learned that love is unconditional through them and gifts of such are forever. For they love me and love all that I love. I will take that to my grave because no one can love your for real, if they do not love the things you love and for me that is one thing – my family.

I am a human being

I take this time to say to all of those who will personally take time to be a part of history – the romantic souls who brave the elements and wave on the steps of the Capitol and the Lincoln memorial, to soak in and live and appreciate being a part of history. Even those who were fortunate enough to stand along the rail tracks and hold their kids in their arms and just wave in admiration and respect to the rail cars that transported the President elect and guest to the stop block at Union station.

This is for me a proud time, for my love of history in person has never experienced such an event since the day I saw Memphis burn and Martin Luther King Jr. assassinated as a 6 year old child. I take pride in this person as a man, as a father, albeit I am supra critical of him as a politician as I am all politicians that proclaim to serve the people first, over party and financial contributors. Yes the 44^th president of this great country has inspired me and I hope he has inspired other, especially to be more than fanatics and drum beaters.

There will be no perfect union, but to dream of such is what is admired, unless it is only a dream deferred with folks anticipating one politician can do the job alone. Such a precept is feculent construct from beginning to end. So in DC be safe for terrorist do not care about cameras in every pole. Be careful on subways for terrorist think and read more than we do. And do watch the man or woman next to you, for just as folks coming to celebrate others are coming to rape, take and pillage. We must be able to realize that pick pockets and strong-arm robbers see large crowds when you may not; that one mans celebration is another mans pain.

I took some flack for the previous post, but I was taught that I would by my parents and grandparents who said that free thinkers make other think, even about things in times in which elation makes them ignore – for thinkers never forget. Obama has shown us that anything is possible, that thinkers are a dying breed but yet invaluable, and that elation can often get in the way of pragmatism: we can look at the populous when Hitler was elected to see such if history is of value to us. Yes I am a pragmatist that leans towards optimism but such does not abrogate my compassion and interest or concern. I was also taught that the reality we share with other, albeit not equal to truth – can offend those that want to hold back that which cannot be restrained – truth and time. For I write what I think and feel, objectively with intent to only express what I think for as I have written before, dick riding aint my thang, and I write my conscious as opposed to what I think people want to hear. I think writers do not care what other thinks of their thoughts for they will accept openly criticism and praise equally. . America is not in a vacuum; our economic problems show us such, as the manner in which the world celebrated when Obama was elected. We should honor this worldly applause and feel the pain abroad equally.

When I see the children in Gaza, I see my two kids, as a single parent that I love unconditionally and desire the best and no harm directed towards them. I see children, and although this inauguration is historic, I relic such yet feel pain for others, especially children who are thinking about things more important than a celebration. Life is not isolated for men, for your child is my child even if they are across the oceans. I am man, and I am a descendant of Africa, and I am American. But that aside, all of the aforementioned are secondary, for I am a human being first and foremost. As such I think human thoughts, and do not separate pain or elation over reality. Just because I am celebrating does not mean I think others are for in many cases they are not. I am human being first, what are you? For I can celebrate and feel pain at the same time. This is raw dawg buffalo, not cute lil kitty cat.

I wanna lay on you daddy/Pop’s I’m running the shop today

Its Sunday and I am, Home today. Usually I would have been at my shop by now, for at least a good 3 hours. Now it is double figures in the morning – something I have not had a chance to wake up in since I started my store for dogs and my son returned back to school.

Little momma woke me up. She scatted out of her room on the other side of the house I can imagine and crawled in my bed. I asked if she was ready to eat and she shook her head in the negative and said, “I just wanna lay on you daddy.” I said ok. She arranged the covers and adjusted the pillows and assumed her spot under my arms laying her head on my shoulder, and as she always does, grabbed my arm and placed it around her. With my arm around her waist and my hand on her stomach, she gently rubbed her hands up and down my arms and whispered “love you so much poppa.” I smiled.

As we returned to slumber again, I received a phone call. It was from my son. “Hey man, where you at Jones?” I asked. He responded, “I’m at the shop pops, you stay at home to day, I’m gonna run the shop for us today. You don’t have to come down, Ill catch the train and ride the bike back home.

All I could do was smile. Nothing like a family business but still better than that, nothing like having the two best kids in the whole wide world. I don’t know what it is about them; maybe it’s the way they call me poppa, or just the way they laugh in their usual uncontrollable manner. I have tried in detail to remember when they have not been able to smile or laugh. I do know I see it when I take lil momma to her mom’s house and it crushes me. And I do know I see it when I tell little man he can’t do something or that he is doing something incorrectly. They so head strong and independent – wonder where they got that from.

They both love being at the shop. My son is the CFO on paper, and makes sales, cleans and counts the loot in the cash register each morning and every night at closing. Lil Momma, COO on paper, is always outside asking folks to “come into my daddy’s store” and passing out the shop’s postcards. She sometimes ask me to be quiet when I am telling folks about the products by saying “let me do it, let me show them.” I like, really love it all, especially when she pretends on her play phone to answer it and always with “Braincell.”

I tell ya folk, especially you men who may read this, gotta get you a number one son and a number one daughter, and even more so, start a family business. I mean, dang, best day I done had in a while, just hearing them two phrases: “I wanna lay on you daddy” and “Pop’s, I’m running the shop today.”

will u be ther in the am?

I will free your mind today, thought amnesty. u dont have to think - let me entertain u

Point of order: 1] Listening to Vikter Duplaix Nothing like Your Touch & 2] Sorry about being late to my own show, but I hit the sack early so forgive me.

Was thinking to myself last night, something I do rather frequently, and no, not about the economy or politics this time, but the penchant and desire I have for companionship. Yep the All-Mi-T desires companionship even in my coarse and often abrasive mannerisms. For I know there is nothing wrong for a man expressing love, desire or loving. So I was picturing what it was I think I wanted and imagined if I could put such in words, so here goes.

What I want are her lips, her hair, my fingers riding through her scalp at a relaxing pace. I want to savor the wildness of our relationship and make the best of what ever we have or will have – whatever that is or will be. Even if that means being able to do the Bachata if required such that I can be able to love you for you from your desire to write stories or books for children to the enjoyment you gather when I watch you paint your toes.

I want to take in your every caress and every ounce of wind you breathe. I want you to know and accept that I give love, that it will be and is unconditional and love all the way or not at all and that if I don’t receive what I expect, I will let it depart without question. I just want u to be funny, scholarly, astute, statuesque and assured, but not scared or frigid.

I have no consternation about saying, lil momma, I want you, and not just me channeled in your back. Albeit I must admit I like the way it feels when I cant go any farther inside of you and I feel like I cant get enough. What a sensation, your skin against mine with sweat. The juices that flow down the inside of my thigh – makes me talk to my self and say I cannot get enough. Nope, I cant. For I want to want your mind and your simper equally as you crave mine. I know I said five times but eight did not seem it was enough for you from what I felt I needed in a day. And you don’t mind, you just grind pelvic gyrations to my pubic bone – as I need you close, for of your spirit I cannot get enough. All I need to know is will you be there in the morning – for there should be nothing in the universe like her touch

The scorn of Lady Macbeth

remember muzk u hear is jones here mane, all live impromptu funktry muzk

Addendum: They done raised the price of the AJC to 75 cents. Bought one for 50 cents tuesday from the machine-dang.

It has been said that love is a many splendid thing. This can be no truer than with respect to the love a parent has for their child. But sometimes we can be so selfish that we place our desires and even misery over ourselves to the point where we could care less about the wants, needs, and desires of our children. Which means selfishness and hate can be more powerful and of value for some than love.

I heard a popular female radio commentator say on the air, that she used to tell her child that her father did not want to see them and that he did not love them. In the same sentence she said that told the child that because it made her feel better and gave her the fortitude to justify her keeping the child from seeing and bonding with her father. And the reason, because she did not like him and that their relationship did not work out. It was during the weekend of Father’s day when I heard this. At the end; she said she regretted it for as her child got older and learned, she despised her and that, she sawthe hurt she had caused "her baby."

It made me think. I mean not to use myself, but I have been told by a woman that she would take our child, and the reason she gave was that it would hurt both of us. She smiled when she said this. I ignored it saying no woman would use a child as a pawn and desire to hurt their child, using a child’s love with their father as a weapon. I must add at that time, I did fill out legitimization papers, for if such a day came I would be ready; so if I had to fill for custody, I would be prepared and it would be joint custody, for no matter how I feel about the other, her love and parental rights toward our child would be just as important and equally respected and valued in my eyes.

I often wondered how any person; any parent would deny a child the love of the other parent. It is some of the dumbest and most selfish shit I have ever heard. Up there with weapons of mass destruction and reminds of William Shakespeare’s play Macbeth.

All Lady Macbeth cared about was herself and the idea of being Queen, but at the same time, she despised her husband for his kindness as king. In her heart, he was not evil enough, as she was to be King. She even called him a coward for being just and kind and loving and stated that she had no pity and would even kill her own baby as it suckled at her breast, if she needed to please herself.

So is it true? Is there any justification for a woman to use a child to get back at a person for a failed relationship? Especially if the requirements of love and provision are provided for the child? I would suspect in some case the said woman may even be provided for by the father, but still may lack consideration for the child desire and love of that parent.

I would suggest that a person that does not has no love or concern for their child, especially if the child is not being abused or neglected. That if they did, they would desire for their child’s happiness to come first, in particular if the child had a strong bond with the father. But I also feel that women who grow up in homes with the father present would not do such, for they would have learned the value and love that a father or any parent would give under optimal circumstance. I also feel that women that do not have such in the home do not see the importance of a man in the lives of children and may even be the type to say they don’t need a man. I think that such is what is wrong with our communities and leads young women to think their value is only in their looks and sex, or worse, that they can only make a living by turning tricks or stripping in front of some rapper.

Yep, we men do neglect our fatherly responsibility at times and that’s something I have written about a lot. But not all of us. So ladies you tell me, why is it that some folks cannot live with the reality that a relationship is over, or why is it that the selfishness of an individual can over ride the love a child may have for each parent. Is scorn that much of value that, one would scar a child just to hurt another and make themselves feel good?

The men all pause

Ok. First, folk here cooked prime rib tonight such that the meat pulled from the bone – dang.

That said, this is for the men, even the lurkers, but I wont hate on any woman responding on behalf of her men – but not what you want, but actual behaviors evinced. So here goes.

1] How do you respond or feel when your favorite teams looses, to a rival or in a championship game like the Super Bowl (true I was reminded of Memphis – Kansas last night, guess I’m not over it)?

2] How do you live your life such to show your spiritual connection to a higher power?

3] How do you see your role as a father, and what does it mean to be a father to you?

4] If you are the single provider responsible for feeding, clothing, shelter or any other necessity or frivolous request for your family, how do you expect your woman, wife, son or/and daughter to show appreciation for such? Do you think they would reciprocate appreciation?

5] How do you define your role as a man to your family and what is the single most important aspect or act you can define in the capacity of fulfilling that role?

6] What would you not do for your wife, woman, son and/or daughter as the man of your household?

7] Is there a difference in how you express love (not sexually) to your woman or wife when compared to your son or daughter?

8] How do you describe the passion for a son’s love when compared to the passion for a daughter’s love?

9] What does it mean to be the man of the house and as being such, what appreciation and/or value to you expect to receive from your wife, woman, son and/or daughter?

10] How should your work ethic be appreciated or valued and reciprocated unto you by your wife, woman, son and/or daughter?

extra credit: How do you see and define your responsibility to your community?

Lets b honest

Check Mate

Sidebar 1: Sorry about not posting what I said I was gone post. It was based on a discussion I had with this chap while eating a BLT. He said he hated all Muslims and Arabs and called them stupid and asked if I agreed. So yawl know me, it resulted in a post for I write what I feel and think regarding what ever is on my mind.

Sidebar 2: Emory University Emergency Rooms are the shit. They got PCs in each room. And I was able to surf the web while I was there. Went last night about 9 ish. Lil momma has been recovering from a yeast infection and was scratching herself real bad. So since I promised her mother I’d take her I did. And the best thing, they gave me some free stuff to put on her for that night and this morning – no more scratching. I was scared cause they said she had t sleep with no panties and all I could imagine was a wet bed – but she didn’t. I tried to call her mother and tell her and text and left messages that were at the ER. She did not respond. So I figured her phone was dead, or she didn’t have it. But I did expect her to call, I mean wherever she was I’m sure they had a landline or cell phone. We stopped by her place around 1150pm; I wanted to leave her so I could finish pricing stuff at the shop. She wasn’t in. Maybe I expect too much.

Side Bar 3: Thanks to the folks at Pimpin Pens for the banner hey made for me.

Sidebar 4: I wonder how many of the folks in China complained about stuff and never counted their blessings, and how they feel now, if they are any of he many who have lost family members and their homes and are sitting outside in he rain after the earth quake

Saturday was an exceptional day. Although folk teeth were giving him problems and I had no loot in my pocket, I still got my shipment of this De-wormer in the mail as well as met a few more dog owners in the area. It was the weekend of the Sweet Auburn Festival and as such, I wrapped a sign around my daughters neck saying “BUY MY PAPPA’s BOOKS” and proceeded to sale 6. But it was only expected given it was the day before the day that humbles all with the effervescent spirit of mothers. Then Sunday wasn’t bad either. Got the mom’s day gifts off, bought Lil momma’s mom breakfast on behalf of her and even gave her a bottle of wine, on a Sunday on Georgia when they don’t ale liquor and I aint got none (fingers crossed). Add to that my Lil cousin graduated for Tuskegee University today and my mom, grandma, step sister and Gip came in town too.

A very needed reprise seeing that I had two days of stacking more than 900 lbs of dog food. But I did want to keep my promise, and get to the food for thought proffered by query for from Riddle me this. I asked the question to make sure I was not out of my mind. See as a man, I feel that our primary job description is to provide and as such we see the majority of our job description to our family and significant other as to provide protect and offer safety. And i dont beat women either, unless you consider slangin a woman to the flor who came after me with a knife abuse (I could have taken the knife and slit her throat but the man in me couldn't do such).

It may be foul on my behalf but that is what I believe, and that there is no reason or room for any one to complain, bitch fuss and bicker if the aforementioned is taking care of. I mean if I keep a roof over your head, keep clothes on your back, the bills paid, you with health insurance and food in your stomach and don’t beat you, there is not a mutha fiuckin reason for one to complain - woman, son or daughter - or any one living under my roof or any roof I pay for. Some may suggest this is a control issue, I say no, albeit I understand we are in America and that he who pays makes the rules.

But me, it’s a little deeper than that. Im trying to keep holding up and keep all of the real in place but most folks seem to not be in the same real world that I am in, the one where a gallon of milk is the same price as the gallon of gas. I feel for my work and proficiency, I should have someone, even if it is just my kids, have dinner cooked, the dishes washed or even a back rub ready for me - but I don’t. Another reason why today was exceptional (my mom came in and started cleaning up and better yet, friend pork chops. More importantly , offered me a drink. That’s why she the shit. I am not her man but she know how to motivate and keep and support one, even me as her son and my son as her grandson - that’s the shit.

I feel that a woman should be more than amenable to spending the night at my home and taking care of me, taking fat long dick and milking me all night if I need such to comfort me without . I feel that I should expect a back rub if she is in tune with me and appreciate and value what do.

So ladies I just want to say thank you for making me feel better, for making me feel that I don’t expect what is not earned and deserved. I mean so many men are fuck boy lame, cheating cant provide and foster constructive images for our family, which is my community. So thanks to you Keli for letting me know a man should expect for his woman” being there for him…supporting him…giving him props when he’s done good, but also giving constructive criticism when he does something out of line…I show him I love him by doing the little things.”

Thanks to you Tera for letting me know it is ok for a man to expect his woman to “compliment him where he is strong and supplement him where his is weak. And that you are a LOVER. I can be spontaneous, fun, and I have a sense of humor.... that you don’t mind making him “some collard greens, hot water cornbread, chops and homemade gravy on Sunday, burgers on the grill and baked beans on Monday...we might go out on Tuesday, but I can whip up some stuffed shells and garlic bread on Wednesday. Don't let Thursday roll around for some good fried chicken, fried corn, smashed potatoes and biscuits...or Friday we mellow out and order a pizza and have a nice glass of wine. Saturday, he might just want to wine and dine...or we can do a little all day bump & grind.”

Thank you Nina for letting me know its ok for me to expect my woman to do “all I can for him. I've come home dog dead tired and cooked for my partner, given excellent sex, and stuff."

Thanks Aunt Jackie for the honesty “how do I show my man I love him? same way as I was taught, f*ck and feed him. don't disrespect him in public, keep our shit private, work out our thing behind closed doors so we show a solid front when we leave the house, support him, listen to him, let him be a man and don't try to dominate or change him.”


Tia's Real Talk is saying “How do I love my man? By giving him all that he needs and some of what he wants. Think of him whenever I make a decision. Making sure he feels like a man at all times and never feels he is competing with me on who wears the pants. Reminding him often of how he makes me feel and how I appreciate him. Sometimes its in an email, text, picture or other married folk thangs. Knowing that men to need to vent and need a ear to just listen. Supporting all ideas even if I don't agree, and knowing the difference between the two And most of all making sure he wants to come home, and that home is a place he runs to and not from."

Blah Blah Blah, you represented too when you wrote “I do a million and one little things...and he can list them...right on down to the way I massage his shoulders without thinking about it, to letting him watch his bball while cooking and running in during half-time to suck his dick before the game comes back on, to remembering he has shirts in the cleaners and picking them up, to reading out loud to him from the Sunday paper as he cooks breakfast, to making sure I keep Italian ices in my freezer for his scooby snack after sex, to making sure I buy his favorite sheets in every color so he feels like he's floating when he sleeps, to making sure I've watched my ESPN to make sure our conversation flows...then letting him explain something to me even though I already know it...so it makes him feel like he has taught me something, to telling him I have no problem being the thunder to his lightening, and again...the list goes on.”

Veronica Wright (Hunnie), I see why your folk hugged up on you saying “.I would show a man that I love him by caring for him and doing the things that I know would please him. Being there just to be an ear if needed, rub his back, hot cooked food, give him good GOOOOOOOD lovin..lol, be the encourager and supporter of his goals/dreams/aspirations. Take the bad with the good, etc. Be....His....Help....Mate. Period.”

Lovebabz I can see you when you state “ I have shown my man that I loved him, by being a faithful and abiding wife. I have been generous in my spirit. I have greeted him with a smile and kind words. I have lovingly prepared meals and happily created a romantic space in which to express that love. There was no room for not showing love on my part. I happily choose to love the way that I do."

Ms. Ki, I can respect that to...”In showing a man that I love him. I pay attention to the little things. Cook his favorite food. Study up on the stats of his favorite team and athletes. Dedicate some time to the activities that he may enjoy that often fall on the backburner to the things I want to do.

Divine Perception, even better....”My man usually wants for nothing. I am not a mind reader so as long as he tells me what he wants/needs I act accordingly. There is a fine line, I will do what he asks most times as long as he is not taking me for granted. He also has to be willing to go out of his way for me as well.”

Brownsoul “ Now when it comes to showing love, well, there are obvious ways. But I don't consider that showing love as much as showing that I too am horny....My husband loves homecooked meals and when I'm feeling especially appreciative to have in my life and I want to show him that, I make an incredible meal for him complete with an after dessert foot rub.”

TheophaniaPaige ...“Feed him his favorite foods, do his hair, wash him, tell him how much he means to me and why I'm with him, etc. “

IVENTBYBLOGGING ...” I show my boo i love him by edifying-building him up. Telling him if he believe it he can achieve it, that I see greatness in him. I give him hand/arm & foot massages and watch him go to sleep. I tell him I love him everyday (even when I'd rather chew nails)...and I assure him with my words, that I'm not going anywhere. I encourage him in God...and tell him he will be the prophet, priest and king of our household when God brings us together as hubby/wife.....I also tell him I'm honored that God gave me him...an awesome gift that I will always treasure."

eve "I'd show him I loved him by hugging him, waiting up til late for him to get home, smiling at him, making stuff for him ..... "

yummy411 “showing my man that i love him? the little things, the sacrifice, putting my wants and needs aside to address his, making time for him in between the kids...love notes, phone calls, bringing home his favorite goodies."


Divine Blackness ...”Stand by him and let me know how much you love and appreciate him.”

How to show a man you don't love him.
Cut him off and move on with your life.

....I'm jus sayin'.

Professor...."...how do i show my man i love him? same way as i was taught, f*ck and feed him...THREE HOT AND A COT... don't disrespect him in public, keep our shit private, work out our thing behind closed doors so we show a solid front when we leave the house, support him, listen to him, let him be a man and don't try to dominate or change him..."

IntrospectiveGoddess ....“I show my man I love him by supporting him, listening to him and doing little things for him that he likes..like cooking little gifts and things”
professor "...how do i show my man i love him? same way as i was taught, f*ck and feed him...THREE HOT AND A COT... don't disrespect him in public, keep our shit private, work out our thing behind closed doors so we show a solid front when we leave the house, support him, listen to him, let him be a man and don't try to dominate or change him...

THE PRINCESS "CC" said...”I treat my man LIKE A KING, LITERALLY, what ever he wants, intimacy, emotionally, completely spoiled.”

So ladies, this post is to you who have restored my faith in feeling its ok for a man to desire what you say you offer, provide and give unconditionally. For I have no problem with providing, my momma always said give and ye shall receive, but she also said you can’t get blood from a turnip and that certain things are uncompromisable.

So I want to thank yawl for letting me know that you women know that saying you love someone is nothing – hat you show it. Thanks for being my Jesse Jackson (keeping my hopes alive) Thanks for letting me know that a few bad apples exist and that a real woman knows that a man that keeps a roof over their head, takes care of their children, keeps food in their stomach, pays for heir tuition and auto, who is here when they lock their keys in their car, kills bugs, takes out the trash, or who may even sacrifice having health insurance so they can have it, is something to be valued, respected appreciated, comforted, made love too and cherished – for so many men don’t. Thanks for letting me know to expect such is not unusual, for in the past I have been told such, even that black women don’t like sex, or a man that admits he desires comfort. Thanks for letting me know that I should not feel bad for believing I can go to my mate and tell her anything and expect her to listen and be there for me without saying whatever, or saying something is an argument because I say “no” or “I think”. Thanks for letting me know you see the 85 to 90 times I do things right, or is there for them, and that I try when I can’t that such is appreciated. thanks for letting me know that my work ethic and how hard I work to provide is worth a back rub or some head or some hot soup after I had major oral surgery.

Now I don’t feel bad for wishing I had someone to bring me soup when I got out of four hours of oral surgery; now I don’t feel bad for wishing I had someone to offer to and be waiting to rub my back after working hard all day; now I don’t feel bad for desiring someone to be there for me to depend on and lean on if I need such. Again, I am reassured, for I grew up playing chess along with other things, and if I could roll all of yawl into one incredible being, I’d close the game like Botvinnik used the French Defense.

u are the earth

The hardest job in the world, next to being committed to ones definition or view or belief in God is being a parent. Yep its tough. As such, I think that there is no greater love than the love one receives from their mother. Maybe I say this because I did not have a father in my life. Or maybe because what she showed me allowed for me to understand that it was ok for a man to be passionate, humble, confident and appreciative of all that he had even if they had nothing. I remember as a little child, in Castalia Heights (CTO), sitting at that red little table in that cramped little kitchen in that two bedroom apartment that my mother, her older sister and my grandmother and I lived in, eating what they called milktoast (toast with cinnamon and sugar with a little butter crunched up in a bowl of milk). She was the one who was most proud of me, not when i got my PHD but when she got me a set of encyclopedias when i was 11 and i read them from A to Z that summer. She taught me that if you wanted to hide something from a nigger, put it a book and that if i was a ditch digger, be the best, for they will always call Torrance to dig that ditch. No matter what or when, even until we moved to our house (all of us when I was four) between she and my grand mother, she made sure that I had what I needed to be secure and comfortable.

She was the one who brought me comic books everyday from work at St. Joseph Hospital as the only Black Chief dietician in the city of Memphis, and the first for a major hospital. She was the one who brought me test tubes and lab equipment from other black men who did such at the hospital and got them to let me sit in on their test and experiments when I was in grade school. She was the one who told me that they Brought Martin Luther King Jr to her hospital in a Wonder Bread truck so folks wouldn’t try to mutilate his body. It was these women who taught me how to treat and value a woman, even if they could not do the same - talking about character.

Yep, a mom’s love. You mother’s are the shit. You never place yourself or anything above your children and family. I would give yawl all flowers, so just take this pic of the Verbena growing in my yard as a token of my respect for you all - yep folk here grow flowers. No, you are not baby momma’s just as I am not a baby daddy. You give us the precious intricacies in a cellular form that become children. You bless us with the ability to maintain a pleasant disposition in torrid times. Yes you give us life for you are the Earth, just as mother nature is the earth

So I just wanted to take this chance to toast to you, my breakfast of champions, tequila with a shot of hot sauce in honor of yawl. I have got my mom and last grandmother living cards today. For me and my kids. I have gotten both of my kids mother cards and gifts, although my son’s mom has never given me a fathers day card nor Christmas gift since we went our separate ways, and my daughters mother would not even call me last year on fathers day to let her daughter wish me such while I was in Quebec City, Quebec. But that is neither here nor there for they gave me the greatest gifts any man can cherish. Which means I will be indebted to them always.

They do not dictate what is great and that which should be cherished buy one who came from a mother, no, such is concomitant of my heart and respect and appreciation for the gifts they gave me that hold and hug and kiss and laugh with me; that call me pappa. The are mother's an can never be worthy of anything less as such. So happy mother’s day (especially to momma, granny, Fallon, Sue, Aunt Cecelia, Aunt Trevor,my cousin Monique, my uncle's wife phylis, aunt joyce, grandma Pee wee, Momma-D, and Angie). I love you all.

Do Right, All Day woman

Wanted to thank yawl who dropped me an accolade or two regarding my 400th post. I also want to add I love the way yawl think. Although I was torn between bashing on Lewis and Clark again (did so 2 years ago in a post) and writing on how they are experimenting on black folks again in Baltimore by dropping sewage sludge in their yards without permission (2morrows post). Instead, I was motivated by yawl, in particular MrsGrapevine, Q, Sista GP, FatLady, Aunt Jackie, the Princess CC and msladydeborah to present what I desire since im not a prince charming (and thanks to all who observed that I am a King).

MrsGrapevine asserted that men do not have such because we “have beauty queen contestants, models, video "vixens", Martha Stewart, and all these fake.” I agree completely, but still I had never searched for a perfect mate ever, only a woman that made my heart boil - albeit i have a penchant for commitment. So I started to think. I do recall that as I child I only desired a woman in terms of occupation. In fact up until jr. high, I stilled wanted her to be a super hero. From as far I can recant, from early childhood, I also desired for my mate to be a scientist, so we could explore and blow-up shit together in bliss. I too gave that up.

But up until I read the comments to this post, I had never thought about describing or labeling the perfect mate for me. So via soul searching, I have decided to describe her in accordance with one of my favorite songs by Aretha Franklin. Yep, I want a Do Right All Day Woman.

I mean, since women (or men) aint like cereal boxes where you can read what you getting with each serving before you buy it, I think that title suits the woman I desire. I think in some form or fashion, from Lolita Smith (5th grade) to Yodi and Monique Williams, to my son’s Mom and Fallon, all of these women had great qualities and bad ones - just as I do. That’s what made them special to me. None were complete and I didn’t expect them to be. I expected and understood that relationships were a growing deal and that they required hard work and maintaining like an old house or car.

To me a Do Right All Day woman is a person you can depend on, a friend first and a staunch critique of you as an individual. They want to maximize the utility of your performance. They care about you and things you love as you do. They are dependable and will love your kids and family as their own. They don’t take no mess when it comes to their man and family. In addition, she never makes excuses for what she does or did not do. A Do right all day woman is a hard worker, doesn’t expect handouts, cherishes each day of her life and is committed to WE and never is selfish or look at herself as me, I or my. They are faithful, honest and more importantly unconditional in giving and accepting love for they know they are earth, the givers of life and the true queen that a man would desire as a mother, wife, lover, sister or friend.

Now I know I still have some standards that may not be available on today’s market, and leg-blocking still remains a no no in my book. But in short, ladies you are right and wrong, I want a do right all day woman, cause im a do right all night man.

never neglect anything u love

Today, i was just gonna post a part of chapetr 8 from my mos recently completed novel HER KISS WAS NEVER MIND. However I decided not to, and may post it Thursday or friday.

With that said, the heart, although vascular, reticular and muscular, is really a vacuous organ. Sure it transports blood and fills blood with oxygen, it doesn’t have any meaning outside of an anatomical and physiological compensation unless you allow other in or unless you are allowed inside of others hearts. I came to this conclusion while being a chief with my boy Smoove. For those of you who are unaware, I am leaving academia so that I can be a lot more lazy (yep, I know it is grammatically incorrect). Well really, I am going to do something I have been dreaming about for a while – open up a dog clothing boutique over on the East side of Atlanta in the old 4th ward, Edgewood district of the city. And out side of my little 3 pound black Chihuahua named famous (in picture), I want to use my boys small Terrier for my advertisment flyer and in news papers, of course panoplied in the couture I will be selling

He indicated to me that he had been neglecting his dog and that he needed to give him a bath, and also that he wished he would bark at folks when they came in the door like Famous did, instead of pissing on their shoes. I responded, well we can never neglect the things and people we love. He said it was profound and that he had to think about that and added, “That’s so true.”

Now that I think about it, I wasn’t trying to be prophetic or nothing, but it dawned on me that I never neglected anyone I loved. Neither family member, nor children, nor woman (when I had one) nor friend or pet. I always wanted to be there for them because I truly believe if I wasn’t they wouldn’t be there for me, or worse that I would loose them. I know sometimes you can be there for folks and the not be there for you. But that’s cool, cause then you will have the upper hand and can obviate them from your life. An action that will occur at their own offense. For it is true, they will learn, and that their neglect may have proffered such for “you never know what you have until it is gone. So folk, if you love something or someone dearly (cares, purses and shoes side), then do put in the work and never neglect that love, for it may evaporate. And even moreso, never be afraid to love or show it, saying it empty for love is a verb from where i sit, and can only be demonstrated by actions.

So I just wanted to share that from me to the reader today, before me and my little monster went outside to plant flowers and replant some plants on this cloudless 62-degree day in the A. Yep it is real important to me, because I only know how to love one way: that is completely and all in, or not at all.

a diamond treated like glass

Now for me, i'm down to 3 generations. For my son and daughter, they still have four. But not me, my granny died and may have left me, but she will always be in my heart, maybe that is why the sporadic crying existed. But yawl don’t feel me though. I remember, at least from age nine, going down either via plane or bus, to Macon, to kick it with my grand mother. My momma, although she and my birth father divorced before I was two, made sure that I spent quality time with my grandma on his side of the family. I can still remember the old house, on the Eastside of Macon, on 1109 Boone Street. Every time I was on that dirt road her house was on, I got excited. She would always take me in the kitchen and my Aunt, her daughter would give me her room for the summer and she would sleep with my grandma in that two-bedroom edifice. Instantly, she would start making me one of her citywide and well know pound cakes. And as I waited, she would always slice me up fresh cucumbers out of her garden and put them in a bowl with vinegar, salt and pepper.

My aunt ran a record shop and some days, I would spend the day with her and would always find myself playing in the back room where she had all of the black light posters. I remember it like yesterday. My mom flew down for her funeral. That is what type of woman she is. In fact that’s the kind of woman I want. Even if remarried, to respect me as such. My son’s mother is like that. Maybe that’s why the first scripture was Proverb 31 – that was indeed my granny. She made sure I had checks coming all the time, and she knew and often said about my father “That N***** aint shit.”

I mean, If my other granny died, I don’t think my birth father would be ma enough or respectful enough to do the same. You see, I never really met him until I was Junior in college. He never called, nor did he write or provide for me in all of my years. He was not at my high school graduation, nor my undergraduate or my graduations for my Master’s or PhD. He wasn’t around when my son, nor my daughter were born. He didn’t care. And now I find it strange, that he even refers to or attempts to call my son and daughter his grand children. I don’t have any bad blood, I just do not see him as that which he claims to be: my father or their grand father.

At the funeral, my mother, children and I road in the first limo with he, his wife, and daughter, and my Aunt. Now I do consider her my sister, because she loves me and shows it, and also loves my kids. They know more about her, my granny and her daughter – my aunt than they do of him. I have no more tears for my granny, for in all of her life I only saw and felt love and compassion and as a person, I never heard her complain at all. She was that humble.

In the church, she laid there, in her pink coffin, with her pink dress on, looking like the queen she was. My sister held on to me. I had to whisper in her ear not to cry, for granny was lucky to have had the greatest grand children in the world, for we made her proud. All she could do was smile, wipe her eyes and squeeze my hand tighter. While I was sitting on the front pew, I couldn’t help but remember how big the church was when I was a child. But looking at it now, it wasn’t so big at all. In fact the opposite. But it had style. On the left hand side were I was sitting, were women all in white. The minister, as my mom called him was old school. He would hum after every sentence and if it got good to him, he would extend his words in chord form, and kneel down to the ground and rise. The organ player would embellish his chants with staccato-riffed chords that seem to make his kneels to the ground longer.
But to make a long story short, it has been a long week. My granny is gone, but she lived 89 long and wonderful years. Now I have one left, and she is 87. Both of them are diamonds. They were as such, even when people treated them like glass. The first scripture they read described my grandma to a tee – Proverbs 31. However, her favorite scripture was Psalms 37. And we all know how the first lines read:

“Fret not yourself because of the wicked,
Be not envious of wrongdoers!
For they will soon fade like the grass
And wither like the green herb.”

Yep, grandma Hazel, like my grandma Virgie are diamonds, and remained diamonds, even when other treated them like glass.

a penchant 4 commitment

Not saying that i am looking for one (u never find when u look,it just happens) but I would like to have a committed relationship. I don't know what one is perse, but I would hope it would entail being with a person that had the same mutual respect and admiration for me as I did them. It is just difficult. Unfortunately, I have been told and have come to the conclusion that I intimidate women - yep, nice old me.

True, i have my iniquities and I'm not the most attractive mother fucka or smartest person in the world, but my kindness and unconditional positive regard for others, especially my children and family or a significant other can't be matched. I just know what I aint, and as of yet, i have not been able to locate it. That someone, that special person that would be willing to share my spirit late at night, after work even when they get off. A person that when they would call, they would want to hear my voice and not call just to ask for something or because they needed something. A person that would be willing to hold me and share my bed regardless of where I lived, or what type of pillows I had, or any other superficial and nonsensical excuse. For such woman is the type that will try and kiss u and have a date planned with anotha jones the next night and folk here dont get down with that. Couldnt begin to imagine im in a commited relationship and i'm taking other dames out for food an drinks. First i's disrespectful and second no sister would stand for such.

I want someone that I don't mind giving my last dime to, the same way I would for my children and someone that woud do the same for me. I want them to trust and know that my word would be reflected in my actions toward them and the would know that mere words would not be indicative of love or affection or amorous consideration.

I do know that for me, it would mean having a person in my life that would do anything for me and would appreciate or value that I would do he same for them. I would want them to know that my money and my food was theirs and would hope they would reflect the same reciprocity towards me. I would never give them lip service or lie, for I would hold a person in disdain that did such to me. To them i would be faithful, sincere and honer them with my heart and life. I would like them to have the security in know that if they were cold, that I would shelter them, or put clothes on their back. If they needed a ride to he store or a place to lay their head, then I would wan them to know that my vehicle was theirs and that my bed was as well. I would want to feel as if I could come and see or stay or spend time with them anytime I want and would hope to have the same offering. More so, I would want them to accept my love and dedication as my children do.

I would also want t be able to depend on them and to know the would be there or me as would them. Yep, for me being in a committed relationship would involve the act of binding yourself (intellectually, emotionally and spiritually) to a course of action; or an act to maintain a charge or trust.

I don't desire fantasy or illusion but rather all that would encompass being in a long-term relationships. I need for her to know that love is not wonderful, easy, or effortless. This means that we would have to work to maximizing similarities and minimizing differences. I don't need for anyone to take care of me, but I would want her to desire to feel that she wanted to take care of me. She would need to understand that we will never always agree, nor will we always disagree on anything'. She as well as I would understand that what is real is not always beautiful and that we would not be immune to struggle. She would understand that I would feel and be able to tell her anything without ridicule or being defensive and that I would accommodate her in the same manner

We would both know, being in a committed relationship, that taking responsibility for one's part in conflict and in lack of satisfaction is mandatory. and in the long run, know that accept her as she is if she is wiling to grow, and that I would anticipate that she would do the same. This would me when I told them I loved them, that I would only tell them and n other and that I would expect the same. If I told such to any woman, then I could not love them. It is not a word to be thrown around and told to each and every person just because they do something or buy something for you.

If i cant have the aforementioned, then I don't think a person is worthy of what I have to offer - my love my smile nor my laugh. You tell me what a committed relationship is for I have never been apart of one, and can't tolerate people who say they will do anything for you, but instead, do not, don't do what the say or keep their word, and worse, only take and never give. Such would mean that they could lean on me, but I could not lean on them; and that what was mine was theirs, but theirs not mine, meaning they would not be my partner or in a relationship, let alone a committed one with me.

what would they say

My Boy Tone just lost his mother and my boy Smoove just lost his father. I couldn’t make Tone’s mom’s funeral, since it was in Oakland, but I checked on him as well as gave him his space. But I was able to make my boy Smoove’s father’s funeral.

Just looking at him comfort his mother and his children and his sisters made me understand why he was my boy. He was real and compassionate and creative. I feel that I would have seen and felt the same way if I was at Tone’s mom’s funeral.

I also started to wonder, as I listened to the service, what would my funeral be like? Would they say that I was a good person, that I was kind and giving? Would they honor that I was a hard working man, with a great work ethic, whom worked and provided for his family days up until my death? Would they say that my daughter had my eyes or that my son would have my smile and that thy both had the essence of my spirit? Would they recant that I lived a good life, that I loved living, loved life and loved others as I did myself, even my enemies?

What would they say, for I am not afraid to die, nor am I afraid to Live.

Concessions

When I was growing up, one of my favorite places to go was to the concession stand. Whether it was at the movie or the Mid South fair, I always liked seeing all of the stuff I could buy and eat. But as I got older, I realized that concessions or for one to make a concession was a different story. You see, a concession is “the act of conceding or yielding, as a right, a privilege, or a point or fact in any activity involving people.” Now I know that it can be used in the form of giving in an argument or discussion, but that is beside the point.

In relationships, it is extremely important to make concessions. If a person is not willing to yield to you or your feelings, your family, or your beliefs, as you are them, then something is wrong with that picture. I was speaking with a friend recently and she told me that her good friend had gone to see a man in another city. That she had stayed the night with this man and that she liked this man. However, when the man was in her city, he did not have nor did he make time to see her. But still, he expected her to drive back down to his city to spend the weekend with him again.

In my purview, I suggested that this was unacceptable and that if he could or did not make time for her, she should not make time for him. In my eyes, it was on him to reciprocate and show her that he appreciated her, her company and that she had value. My friend told me that her friend was all broke up over this. I said she should not be and that we all desire to be loved and told her to remember what Teddy Pendergrass sang:

It's so good lovin' somebody
And that somebody loves you back

To be loved and be loved in return
It's the only thing that my heart desires
Just appreciate the little things I do
Oh, you're the one who's got me inspired
Keep on liftin', liftin' me higher

So yawl folks remember that and never feel bad because you se love as a two way street between two people for we all want and desire someone to love us back – no excuses.

it is easy to love

Since the fourth of July is coming up, I was initially gonna post Fredrick Douglas Speech he made on July 4, 1853 in Rochester, New York. However, since I know the folks who have read my blog may have as I have, read it an inordinate amount of times, I decided to write about what I heard in church on Sunday – not that I go all the time but I do listen.

The pastor spoke of two things that stuck out. The first was it is easy to love and the second dealt with passion and commitment. He said it was easy to love and in another voice said but to do so, requires passion. He defined passion as an extreme emotional desire for something. He also said that passion was the trait of being intensely emotional and that such was a good thing. Not purses, shoes, weed, or sports, but factors that tend to the heart. He said without passion, they can never be commitment. For commitment is the act of binding yourself (intellectually or emotionally) to a course of action. It is the act of dedicating or the state of being dedicated and an ardent, often selfless affection and dedication, as to a person or principle. Without neither, one cannot love anyone or anything.

It made me think. It is easy to love, however, one cannot love just by saying such. One cannot love if they do not have love for them selves or if their heart is divided. For it requires an individual commitment to the object and individual that love is towards. If the heart is divided, especially for people in the commitment of a relationship, the there will never be any love and thus there is no relationship. For with out passion, one cannot love for they cannot miss, or feel or suffer from the lack of, or commit themselves to another person. To say so without action is a farce.

I only went to church because I told my daughter’s grandmother that I would take her sometimes. I’m glad I went and listened to what I practiced in my actions daily and all the time.

Pawns of the Game

I do not know where it started, but there are some of us so insecure and filled with vile thoughts, that we will do anything to hurt others. This is something that I would never expect to happen from a god-fearing and loving person, especially a parent.

I just want to know what is it about some men and women who would use their children to inflict pain on others. Yes, if the shoe fits wear it. Truth is that many of us, especially women, often have problems in relationships and with themselves to the point that they will use children to inflict pain on the other parent. I think this problem is more prevalent with women, but the question remains, why? Why would a woman use the love that a male parent has for a child as a weapon? Does she not know that it is the child that should come first and not herself? Some even go as far as to disrupt the child’s perspective of the other parent in an effort to make this occur. Still others use their children to get back at the other parent. I would never do such and have not. But I will not ever understand it. I will always support and encourage my children to love and never disrespect their mother's. But that's just me. But Others may and this terse essay is for them.

People, please, and men too, let us just love out children completely and honestly, and let them know all they meet love them. Otherwise, we will continue to see the degradation within our communities and we will have no one to blame but ourselves. In particular, if we know the other parent is a great, wonderful and loving parent. Maybe even more loving than we do. In the final observation, a relationship and its survival is based on each person meeting the needs of the other. If they are unmet, then leave, but please leave the children out of it.