Who is the real madoff: African Americnas Still Display Scant Signs of Economic Improvement

By definition, to improve is to enhance in value or quality — to make better. Yet more than 40 years after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and the election of President Barack Obama in 2008, there is still no noticeable improvement in the quality of life in the African American community.

A new report suggests that a large corpus of the African American community has made very little progress when compared to whites over the past few decades. According to a survey given to African American adults, seven out of 10 adults view today as very tough times for their children and perceive poor black youth as falling further behind. Yet, unlike adults, two out of three African American youth perceive current times as being “very good or OK.”

In addition to survey data, the report also provides economic data on opportunity trends. Four out of ten black children are born into poverty compared to less than one in ten for whites. Less than 40 percent live with two parents versus 75 percent for whites. African American children are statistically more likely to die before their first birthday or become obese in school.

More startling is the finding that 85 percent of African American children in the fourth grade cannot read or do math at their grade level, and almost half eventually drop out of school. A young African American male born over the past decade has a 1 in 3 chance of going to prison in his lifetime.

It is essential that we remember that Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was more than a dreamer; he was a catalyst. We cannot think we have it made, since the numbers show us otherwise.

In 2010 the unemployment, underemployment and hidden unemployment rate for black 16 to 29-year-olds was 40 percent and 43 percent for black males. The large number of young black adults not working full-time jobs will severely limit their future employability, earnings and ability to support their families.

It was Dr. King who said, "It’s all right to tell a man to lift himself by his own bootstraps, but it is cruel jest to say to a bootless man that he ought to lift himself by his own bootstraps."

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.

Virgie Ingram (1921 - 2009)

My granny died yesterday morning.That is her in front of my shop in the wheel chair with my mother and daughter. We represent 4 generations. I wrote this for here when i went to see her a few months ago. I miss here, but will remember all the things she told me. These are a few:

1] "excuses, boy dont make no excuses, ifs ands pots and pans the whole world would be a kitchen".....................granny

2] "i will try is the same as saying i will fail"............. granny

3] "dont do things trying the be famous or successful, just strive to be great and kind"....granny

4] "if you wanna hide something from a nigga put it in a book, read all and every thing, they could be talking about me and you wouldnt know if u dont read everything".............granny

5] "if u a ditch digger be the best ditch digger 'cause they will always call torrance to dig that ditch"...granny

I miss my granny, especially her laugh - love always - Pumpkin

i dont want to be successful

As I type, I am back home in Memphis. I haven’t written much lately and I am back because my granny is very sick, in fact don’t know how much she has left in this temporal world we term life. Just two years ago I lost my other grand mother and if you are a faithful reader of mine you would recant the post, which I called a diamond treated like glass.

I know they will never be away from me, for I live them and the words of wisdom and lessons of life in my heart daily. One of which was to never compete and that never settle to just be successful. In their eyes anyone could be successful and with hard work and confidence it was my mandate to be great. Maybe that is why I never really desired to be successful. I always wanted to be great and was inspired that I was great since I was knew high to my granny’s waist.

You see, I was blessed. I was raised in a time when things were not cars or clothes or money but how you developed and created and achieved with ones mind and work effort. It was not just enough to be successful for back then, successful folks just got theirs, moved away and never returned to their community in spirit or through life. It is a difference that is extremely noticeable today – the penchant for things ones own to define themselves as opposed as the accomplishment that leads other to achieve greatness outside of the isolation of others.

For us, it was historically our accord to be great for greatness would never be obviated from ones life the way material goods and wealth can. For wealth in heart is that of love and the joys of GOD. It is how we speak to others and listen t others as equals. It regards the vision of being a group as opposed to an individual. It is the locution of sharing as opposed to hoarding and knowing that I am no better nor worse than the next person.

So I am here in Memphis, where I was born and raised, and I am under my grand mother, bathing her, changing her gown, letting her play with my hair and hold my hand as she goes to sleep. I hope she is here for longer than the weekend, albeit she has stopped eating and my mother and her sisters think she doesn’t have to long to be with us. But I know she will always be here in my heart, and can tell by the way she hugged me and went to sleep with me in her arms last night like I was still 3 years old. I just wish Trey Songz and Drake had the type of influence I had to be great – for being successful is not enough and just wont cut it in this day and age.

guess who started school today

note to goons, thugs and gangsters

Now I did write commentary on the current administrations health care reform. But I will let the pundits speak before I do because when I speak first it seems they only recant in an adumbrated and unintelligible form, what I postulate. So for the time being, they will have to go at their analysis on their own. Nor did I post on being black in America for I need no TV show that I would never watch anyway to tell me what such a disposition defines. With that said, I will talk about what I love, my kids and family and will chastise those that don’t see the value in such as being major in their lives.

To the aforementioned which I cited in this title, I would like to say that you are foul, fake and lame. Albeit I can contrive a bevy of phrases to continue my description, I will refrain and attempt to convey a logical course of explanation as to why I purport such a locution.
At time I feel as if I am the last man, the last scholar, the last father on earth. And Times have not been easy for me ever. From my upbringing in Memphis, to securing my PhD, to starting my own business, to raising my kids. No never, and I shall not seek the easy way out for hard work compassion and love is all that I crave to mandate my personal exhilaration. But no matter what, I have had two vehicles to assist me my mind and the love of my kids. Even with the grief that has been exerted through my daughters mother who suffers from mental illness, I have never felt alone or helpless. Always I have still had the love of my kids and they have seen me as father first and man second. When my shop was beasted, by my side that morning were my son and daughter who felt more pain and violation than I did, for the door only cost 600.00 and the cash register they stole only contained two rolls of pennies.
See for me there is nothing better than keeping my seeds by my side and wouldn’t have it any other way. Just seems today those that claim to men are of a completely different feather.

For to me, you are a lame if you spend more time in clubs and bars than helping your kids with their homework weekly. Or if the example of fatherhood to you means having your elementary school aged daughter on stage at some awards show while you sing about fucking every girl in the world and staying strapped. To me you a lame if you spend $12 to 17 stacks in a strip club yet can only manage to give a $1000 scholarship – Yea Jeezy, I’m talking to you.
I am proud to say that for me, life is more than hypocrisy and the spouting of fake stupidity related to self material idolization or the proclamation of being hard. For truth be told most folk that do are really soft as wet toilet paper. Yes, I am, proud, for coaching my son in baseball and basketball all of his life and seeing him score in the top 92 percent of all kids in the nation on his ACT. I am proud of the way he man’s up and takes his 4 year old sister to the bakery across the street to get cake when he would prefer not to be bothered with her. Yes I am proud of how my daughter pretends to order dog food on her play phone and answers my shop phone by saying “Braincell.”

This is what makes me feel like a man. This is what gives me pride. I just wish other men felt the same way, evinced pride in family, intellect and their seeds as they do in being foul and hard and for lack of a better word – stupid. I mean who else or what type of person would be proud to proclaim themselves as a goon, thug or a gangster before a man and a father? I say a fool.

i miss my kids

Most yawl know my kids mean the world to me, and they have been rasied by me lonesome most of their lives. But over the past week have had some contrived evil drama and neither are with me.
So im sad and miss my kids. She always said she would do anything she could to make my life miserable, threatened to kill me and him, do anything to hurt my son, and to keep him and his siter from being together.



Now she calls asking for her Biti and he checks on her. She follows that boy everywhere and He protects her like the fine young man and big brother should.

only thing worse than a recession

is rain. Seeds gotta eat.

lil moma in college

lil momma went to college today again. She was my best student, always wanted to teach my kids at university level. She sat in front row too and said Statistics is her favorite class. So what her pencil upside down.

morpheme-less monday

Ok we got snow in Atlanta and the city closed (outside my kitchen window)

Lil Momma had to drive her jeep (love Palmetto, GA and farm life)

On deck (outside of my sons bedroom window)

Outside my bedroom door

In the back of house

From back porch

Lil momma making a snow -gel on deck (she forget the An)

And of course my favorite (hot sauce not included)

just had to share some Sunday images & shouts to Brandi Bates and her son for coming by the shop Sat.

Looking up to idiots

I would like to hope folk a blessed holiday season. But I must get back on the grind, for my reservation desires to promote self determination, and given the current worldly state of affairs, the window of opportunity is gradually closing. As we a wait the historic day where the new president of these United States assumes office, I still would like to reinforce that we should not look at jones as a savior, as 40 acres and a mule, of meaning emancipation, or that we have overcome.

We have not. The President Elect is but one man, in character and content that exist in all men. It is on us to assume the burden of responsibility for his success or our failures. We are the real folk that have to put in work. To assume the importance of liberty , in particular in the capacity of being versant and well informed. The decision is only ours whether or not to re-evaluate our current priorities and rearrange them such that the general community in the form of our neighborhoods, schools, and families are first. We must admit our faults and our general collective responsibility to correct what we can. Some of us men need to lift up our skirts and find our balls, and some of our sisters need to stop defining materialism and cosmetic falsities as being things of value. And most of all we, all need to stop looking up to folks that do not represent values we desire for a healthy community to reflect.

I hope that with Obama, folks will get a view of the possibility of family, the importance and the attractiveness in intelligence and reading and staying informed. I hope that people can observe how this one woman defines womanhood via being the supporter of her husband and children regardless. I Hope that people see in him, the value of reasoning and thinking as well as leadership. But the truth is, that down here on the grown level, we more than likely look up to idiots. I mean its cool to have a favorite musician or actor, but don’t allow them to be the source of information that you use to make your decisions. Nor be so absorbed in their life that you desire to be like them or live their kind of life. Don’t tolerate people who disseminate dumb ass, criminal and basically mal-adaptive behavior that you know is foul – but it makes u dance. We cannot complain. I feel if we don’t speak out and in action move to change that which we consider foul, then we are just as much of the obstacle.

All we do is follow, and we tend to follow idiots, or have more or as much interest in them than ourselves, All we do is follow. We rarely ever observe things, think about them and putt into action what we say. It is on both of us: the people and the president elect. I don’t want him to get up there and change the “our” you spoke about Mr. Obama, to the WE [Washington insiders]. Yep I still have a problem with you saying you gone change the “old boy “ network of “Washington Insiders – but I can let that pass for now. Because it remains on us and I am afraid and hopeful in the same instance. The window of time is small and we need to do something for a change rather than ask or expect for one person, to be our savior – he still is a politician.

what xmas means 2 me

he a ball player - not time to worry about his fly

this how country girls get down

pity the fool

I would hope that no one ever feels sorry for me, or better yet, that I will never have pity or sorrow for myself. I know things are hard for all not just me, but with perseverance, and the lessons we learn or can learn from our life experiences, I am content that it could be better and more, that some have it worse.

The banter and frolic that is orated in the form of words and phrases as complaints, should have no place in the vocabulary of any one with a roof over their head, food in their stomachs or disposable income to buy more shoes or CDs when they have more than they can listen to or wear.

I keep my blessings in my mind, especially the two young ones that follow my every word and call me poppa. I just want to remind folks even when things seem to go of course, if your money aint like you used too, or you have to have a drop down drag out with a life long friend, or be upset because a movie wasn’t like you thought it would be, get over it. We forget that it is the simple things that matter. That Christmas is about an open heart and the music, the memories from Christmas past. That we are not living in a Cholera epidemic, or walking in shopping malls where folks may have a bomb strapped around their waist. That we can sleep at night peacefully even when in pain without the threat of a warlord or solider coming in to kill our entire family.

So although as I said before, times are rough, don’t worry, have faith. So you don’t know if you will be able to pay that mortgage, or keep your internet on, or pay the car note. What you do and need to know is that you at least had such; that you have the ability and prowess to succeed; that you have worth and value in your heart and smile; that you can love even if you don’t feel love. Used to be a character on TV back in the day called Mr. T. He wore a lot of gold around his neck. Was never mad at him for that, for his reason was because his ancestors had to wear chains not by choice so he would honor him by weaning gold chains as a reminder. Not like rappers who wear chains because they use such to show they have money. Money aint what makes you valuable, no grass hopper, it is your heart, smile and acts there off. And as Mr. T said, “I pity the fool” that thinks his value is in the form of what they own as opposed to accepting their blessings, no matter how small, of being able to breathe to smile and see another day. Happy holiday’s folk and happy birthday to me (dec. 22). so buy my books.

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.”

i want the pink one

A woman told me recently, you don’t mess with a daddy’s girl. It made me smile and the simper was so warm that folk here could have burnt the sun. I was hoping she was right and in my optimism got even warmer.

Maybe that why she is the way she is. Why she reaches out for me while in her mother’s embrace, or why when she sees me gazelle like, she jumps in my arms. Or why every times she pretends her phone rings she answers “Brain cell; or sit down with her toy laptop on her legs telling me she ordering dogfood too. Yep, maybe, in the rambunctious recalcitrance she gleams, I just smile and say yes or ok.

So I guess I got the best of both world, guess my sperm work like that. First Born is my number one son. Fellas, gotta get you one of them. Second born, baby girl, fellas you gotta get you one of them too.

Especially the latter, I mean the way she crawls on me, lays her head on my shoulder when she is my arms, even how she sleeps in my lap – can u say the bomb. And I really love it when she say “naw folk, we don’t get down like that” or “nothing jones” or “that’s my song.” So fellas, I don’t know what gives. I mean love your kids, I don’t care if they momma crazy or you crazy. Nurture that spirit which has originated from your loin for love sake, and make no excuse and let no obstacle get in your way for doing such.

Cause if u true, learn to live the love in the experience of buying your baby girl cupcakes with pink icing just because she say “I want the pink ones.” I guess money and the economy aint everything. vote

i cant b faded

Somebody told me recently that I was intimidating; that I can be a bit overwhelming and that they could imagine some folks shaking when they may first meet me. They also said that they imagined it took a lot before any person was considered by me to be my folk, but that when they do that I was loyal. My response was, “I am not intimidating Jones, I’m meek and the meek shall inherit the earth, I’m just Hanes Jones, panty hoses – no nonsense.”

I know that some are laughing at Jones for describing myself as meek, but in all truth-e-ness, I am. Yep, meek, and forgive me for as I write this I am listening to Bill Summers and the Summer’s Heat You can call it what you want to and beveraging outside of my shop selling stuff for dogs.

I say this for in my short and shallow life time, I have seen a lot and I have experienced a lot. From trying to find a cobra in my home and locating it when I lived in Nigeria to having to sneak one of my best friends in his home after being stabbed in a crap game over a side bet. From being interrogated inside a Nigeria prison and having to buy my freedom on drummed up charges for $200 US to having to deal with allegations of rape for me, as well as similar allegation toward my son toward his sister by the same mentally ill person who vowed to make his life and mine miserable, to feeling the cold plated pain of metal inserted in my gums in an attempt to rebuild my mouth after being hit by a car and landing on my face.

Yep, I have seen and experienced a lot. And none have any impact on how I view the world or the way I treat others, for I still love Nigeria and I still paid the rent for the one who accused me of raping her, when such did not happen, even as she attempts to use our daughter as a pawn. And I still eat neck bones and ribs albeit the pain in my mouth remains and presses the metal in my gums harder against what remaining nerves I have in my mouth. Yet still, I am kind and likely the kindest mutha fucka am folk gone ever meet.

I can’t be faded, no I am not from the streets, I am the streets as well as the world. I take life for what it is; an enjoyable experience that my cells applaud for as a mass we know the only certainty in our future is death. Add to that, as of now, I hope such a disposition is engendered by my seeds, for they are the only valuables I have outside of what I can create and dispense with my mind. So if some find me intimidating, that’s on them for I feel no matter where I am although it may not be true, that I should run things and that somebody has to be number one, so it may as well be me. You can call it what you want to. vote

take note

Point of Order: Jamming that Chrisette Michelle (ironically) - if I have my way.

A few weeks ago, maybe a month, I made reference to males who wear wife beaters over they azz as if they were draws. I don’t want to seem like I am hyper critical of African American men (although I am), or that I pick on us moreso than the sisters (but I do); I do want to say something about Michelle Obama and a few reasons I think sister (all women really) should take note, and try to use her as a role model instead of folks like Keisha Cole or Beyoncee Knowles. Now these may not be true and are only my opinion of what I can gather since I have not met her personally.

1] She speaks well and is well read, but at the same time proffers the disposition that if had to, she could handle her’s anywhere.

2] She doesn’t abide by the traditional definition of Baller. Since the common definition seems to rule men in graduate and professional school, without gold-teeth and they draws showing as typically being un-baller-esque.

3] She does not seem to be the type of woman that would chase or be with another womans husband; or even better get with a man after she knows she is pregnant by another man.

4] She selected a man based on her understanding of family, and family values and not because he lavished her with Louis Vuitton or Gucci, but rather was impressed with his values, character, work ethic and intellect.

5] Swagger for her is not seen as some artifical material but rather as genuine honesty and compassion as expressed by respect, value and appreciation (as can be seen in the smiles of her kids and her interaction with others).

6] She knows her sports and has extreme dedication to her teams.

7] Her hair is one color, without extensions from horses or women living in India.

8] Five to one in a throw down, she could take Cindy McCain and Sara Palin in an Indian Death Cage Match

9] She can cook, and places nothing on this EARTH above her family, not even herself.

10] She got with her man not thinking what he could do for her, but what she could do for THEM. She is not the type to ask anyone to do for her what she cannot do for herself (take note of this ladies).

What better standard in a woman to look up too, outside of your mom or grandmom (in most cases)? If you can add more – feel free to do so. Just my two cents, so take that with ya. Good Day.

Now listeing to Goapele - First Love , I be jamming Jones.

When the grandmomma’s gone

Was talking to my folk the other day. He called me at the shop. Told me he had some steaks and chicken on the grill. It was our conversation that fostered what I am about to write.

We both acknowledged that men were slacking as a whole regardless of race and that women also needed to step up their game. We attempted to remember a time when kids were raised by just their grandparents, especially women. But could not make a comparison because there was one point in time when children received instruction from grandparents, especially their grandmothers in concert with their mothers – in particular little girls. It was that tandem that gave me guidance just as much as the men in my family

They nurtured, supported, and taught all how to take care of themselves including cooking, cleaning and even taking care of a man and ones family. Maybe I am wrong but I don’t see the same vigor in such instruction by example anymore. Mothers today maybe more likely to leave their children to the complete tutelage of their mothers as opposed to working with them as a team - not all but some. It is as if now, the child is not as important as doing themselves, going out, having a good time or what not.

I feel that who better than two women with the experience of being women, to teach a female child what it means to be a woman. I can’t even recall a woman in my family being too busy or too rushed to fix me breakfast, or read to me, or to be at my every practice or even do something that I wanted to do. It was if sacrifice was their middle name and they did so with pride. No club, not concert, nor happy hour or anything would be more important than me. Maybe I was rare or lucky, but even when I asked for McDonalds, they said no, “we eating dinner when I cook”, or it had to be a very special occasion for them to acquiesce.

I guess now, millennium mom’s are to busy. Maybe it’s a function of technology or of the age of supra-materialism. I do not know what it is but there is a difference. This scares me because I often feel as if the last remanding hope for a lot of us is the matriarchy. I mean, I remember how women, moms, sisters, aunts and grandma’s used to hold shit together in as they would say in “hell or high water.” Not only did they instruct and lead and raise, they did so by example.

Both my granny’s were considered young when I was in my youth, being in their 60s, and have raised a couple few children and outlived their husbands – to which they only had one and was with for their entire life, representing death to we part fully. But the grandmas’s of this day, are rare in the form that I stated prior, and tend to be as young as 40 years of age.

Currently, I don’t know if the patience I observed in the women I speak of so vehemently is readily available. I know it’s the age of the drive through window, TV, viedo game. Microwave and the quick fast, but I also wonder if this serves people better – having things made so readily and easily available.

Maybe it is just me, but the grandmothers of old are still around, but they are an endangered species. I just wonder who our young women and daughters will learn womanhood from, with so dramatically a rejection of making whatever sacrifice is needed to educate and raise responsible women for the future, I mean, what’s gone happen when all the grand mamma’s are gone?


vote

U should be crying

Point of order: My folk was in town, couldn’t get by the shop. Said the blog was tight, but like his lyrics, falling of the deaf ears of the lame, mute and blinded. This is for you.

“i’m from where the catholic church is some racist shit,
they helped europe and america rape this bitch,
they pray to white spanish jesus whose face is this,
but never talk about the black pope gelasius,
i’m from where soviet weapons still decide elections,
military’s like the mafia — you pay for protection,
catamite sex tours is what the country sells,
and rich white business men make the best clientele,
i’m from where they too pussy to come film survivor,
and they murder coca cola union organizers,
i’m from where the justice system está podrido,
fuck government niggaz politic over perico,
rebelde concido, enterado vivo, como otro argentino desaparecido,
cuz rico laws don’t apply to the cia,
and muthafuckaz make sneakers for a quarter a day,”…… Immortal Technique

Take that Jeezy, Lil Wayne TI and the rest of the female dog gluteus maximus Negroes who claim to keep it real - real stupid

Talked to my folk last night. My home boy from the cut. He aint call me I called him. I love jones to death. Same neighborhood and same social club that twelve call a gang. I called him because his ex called me. She my folk too and I love her to death also. She asked me to speak with him. She said that his son would call him but that my boy would not call him back.

Now men, this will come from my heart. There is no greater blessing than the love we receive unconditionally from our kids except that of God if one believes such. For the life of me, I cant see no reason in the world why a man, in particularly one that claims to be such, and has planted himself in a woman to result in fertilization and the resulting blastocyst, cant see this greatness, especially even in vanity, of what he has created.

Personally, in the world we have around us currently, I want my seeds around me as much as possible. And when they are not around me, although I don’t worry and keep the love I have for them and that I suspect the have for me in my heart, they still contrive to cross my mind incessantly.You dont know what u missing, when im not with my daughter, when she sees me she holds me and wants to sit on my lap and hold me with her head on my shoulder all day. And my son, as son as i get in when he dont see me, he like "hey pops" and ask my advice and opinion on everything. We all sit at the table like to day and laught and talk.

So I won’t get deep, or nothing like that, just short and simple, but for all yawl men, that claim to love and miss your kids, show me, and I aint from Missouri . Cause if it was me, I’d be mad if I missed my child’s call, and even worse, every time I saw a man with his son or daughter in the street smiling and hugging and holding them, I’d buss out in tears, and my fault folk, but I think yawl should be crying too. Good day.

addendum: i have come to realize we are lost. Folks dont understand the economy, and wonder y any job is better than no job and how stupid u ask, we will turn down a job in a recession, for paying 7$ an hr and we aint got one - go figure.

work hard and don’t complain

Growing up in Memphis, there were 3 general things I was inculcated with from either my Grand folk, Mom or Uncles:

1] If you gone be a ditch digger be the best ditch digger and they will always call Torrance to dig that ditch

2] Somebody gotta be number one, may as well be you.

3] Competition is for folk who have to prove something to themselves; you don’t need to compete boy if you already know yourself.

Over the years, I have had a lot of things said about me, but never have I been called lazy nor have I ever had my work ethic questioned. The little I know about my mothers father and my granny’s brother, I do recant both of them giving me advice as a child under the age of 4. My Great Uncle, while drinking Scotch and chain smoking Pall Mall Red would say “what makes a man is how hard he works, not for himself but his family and neighborhood – men take care of others.” These were straight old school cats, with my great uncle, like my granny, being straight up on out of Yazoo City, Mississippi.

Even after they both died, and my mother’s brother took over the reign of my family being the last oldest male in the household, he said the same thing to me over and over but added “we will always work hard and take care of out children, and working smart is the hardest work to do.”

I am writing this because of a request I received from one of my readers. He suggested that I was always talking about self suffiency and that I should share my joy of hard work and working for myself to others such to maybe motivates them to do the same. I honestly hope that this tractate does his request honor. For it is a joy, a joy unfortunately equal to that I experienced when my son and daughter were born, only without the tears. You see after both were born, I left the delivery room, looked at the moon in one case and the rising sun in the other and cried, like it was straight out of Roots.

Nowadays, not like there is nothing wrong with it, but many of us want the easy way out, We want to rely on our looks and become models, or we want to rap, or worse, we spend $10 to $20 dollars weekly trying to hit the lotto. No longer do we desire to wait or even earn what we desire for in our myopic purview, me, and me now is all that counts. We will complain while we have other providing or taking care of us because we cannot see that their work ethic is what sustains us, or that the opportunity given to us is always a function of chance; and that we need to make the best of all opportunities for we may not get another.

But for some of us, the easy way is the best way. Even if that means selling drugs, jacking someone’s shit, depending on others or just not being able to be on time for a job if one is fortunate enough to have one. And dont give me this bitch azz shit about its the only way folk can make money. Truth be told, hard work is a throw back like black and white TV. I mean we are so lazy that we will walk in front of a TV looking for a remote control to change the channel instead of doing it manually. We even too lazy to change our oil or even cook our own meals, preferring to waste loot at Jiffy Lube or McDonalds, while at the same time being, or saying we are too busy to sit at the dinner table together. To busy with all the convience around us – go figure. All I am saying is that work ethic is what engenders sprit of faith and accomplishment. Without such, we have nothing, for we will ask and wait for folk to give us shit, even if its freedom, liberty or equality. I see what George Clinton meant now when he said Free your mind and your ass will follow. For I am the last eldest man left in my family and outside of love, alll i can leave them with are my actions through my work ethic - can u dig it?

Amplification: In last post ACTION means macking or trying to get a girls number for yawl lames LOL - not sex.