MarriedandWhatnot

RACE RELATIONS 1: Perception of the angry black man
Let me preface this by saying I don’t have a racist bone in my body. I think it is actually insulting when people make comments like, “I am not racist, I have x-amount of __ friends!” I heard a comedian say before if you have to count how many black friends you have you are a racist. lol. I could play the same game and try to impress you like, “I have this many white friends!” but to me that is ignorant and irrelevant. Now I chose to do this blog (and most likely it will evolve into an extended discussion over the lifespan of me blogging) because I want to talk about issues we either sweep under the rug, or choose to ignore. In this particular instance, I suppose it is geared more towards granting others people a perspective of how we (African-American) view things. I won’t say that I am speaking for an entire race, but I will say my attitude reflects the views of many of us.

That being said let me start off by saying I don’t hate people just because of their skin color. That is just foolish. What I hate is ignorance. Pure(in)breed, generational ignorance. When you hear a black person make a comment about ‘the man’ they are basically speaking about numerous bad experiences with Caucasians. It doesn’t mean they particularly hate all white people. Say for example everybody on the earth was transparent, and we wore t-shirts with different colors. Over your lifespan, if you met 250 people with red shirts and 200 of them said they like lasagna, most of us would eventually generalize when making comments about them (e.g. those red-shirts sure love lasagna). Just human nature I suppose. That is how it is with us. I was watching this old black movie about these sisters who lived back in the day and dealt with all types of racism. She made this statement that will always stick with me. Because of the red-shirts that black people have dealt with, they will understand this statement. She said, “I truly believe that God sends a good white person in our path at times to show us that they all aren’t bad.” That sounds horrible, but from a black person’s perspective, we deal with racism on a consistent basis that you wouldn’t believe.

Now don’t get it twisted. I have some REAL issues with my people in several areas (including racism within our race). One of the problems I have (which I will address in a later blog) is the way we project who we are, and what we represent. It has nothing to do with keeping it real because ignorance comes in all shades. So in that respect, I can’t really fault some of the blue-shirts that white people have experienced. I have a friend back in Ohio and he is a quarter of a century older than me. His grandfather was a KKK wizard (secretary, treasure or something). This guy and I have some of the most engaging, intellectual conversations about race relations. It is so raw, candid, and in your face. We usually both are completely honest, and try to share these misconceptions; and I truly believe at the end of all of our conversations we are both better for it. All that to say I am open minded and understand there are two sides (perceptions), but sometimes that still doesn’t make things better. Sometimes I just get tired. Of course this blog was prompted by some silly racism here. Don’t have the energy to go into it, but the question many black man continue to face is why should we constantly have to prove myself?

I was talking to my buddy the other day, and he wrote this blog about interviewing for this job at a white church, and the pastor telling him that hiring more colored’s would diversify the congregation. I don’t even know how to react to that one. I had to just laugh. Like I stated before, we live in a pretty wealthy area which is predominately (statistically 98%) white, and I get tired of snide looks like I am not supposed to be here. I am not ignorant by any means, not loud, educated, yet time and time again I still have to go an extra mile to disprove the numerous stereotypes about our people.

I tell you what else makes me mad when people act like it is not that serious. Yes it is. When you deal with it as frequent as we do, yes the hell it is serious. Most of us just don’t talk about it because we can’t. Black men can’t express themselves without being misconstrued as violent or irrational. I could dedicate a blog to all the stupid crap I have encountered, but I don’t want to make this a bash/complain session. I suppose I am just frustrated because I get tired of how black men are always categorized.

Now I love my sistas, but this is just the truth. Please don’t get mad by this comment because black women go through things I can’t even remotely imagine. They have a limited selection of men, and have to work harder to get ahead in the workplace. But on that same token, black women have more flexibility to say what is on their mind than black men. A black woman can go in the office, and completely snap…and that is ok. Maybe because of our history of black women being caregivers, nurturing, and taking care of other families. Thing is, a sista can snap, roll her eyes, completely clock and write someone up about themselves…and get away with it. Black men on the other hand can’t. We get pissed and try to address anything, the second our voice gets louder they go get security (literally) and blow it completely out of proportion.

I am not trying to come at an entire race, but I am just frustrated with ignorant people in society. You know, I am probably the only person in America (along with my wife) who didn’t like the movie Crash. I thought it was stupid. Granted it was interesting how they linked everything together, but it was not all the hype people made it out to be. Maybe people found themselves in the characters, felt guilty and thought it was deep, but to me the movie should have been called ‘duh’ because nothing was shocking at all. Anyone with any type of discernible spirit sees this stuff every day.

All that to say, we are created equal in God’s eyes, but truth is in society’s eyes we are not. We have made strides, but are no where near there yet. My buddy was telling me CNN did this piece about how a white man with a felony can get a job before a black man with a bachelors. What? I guess I have a hard time accepting that things have to be that way. I have numerous friends (all races) I have been blessed to have over the course of my life (that I speak/interact with daily), so you can’t sit here and tell me we can’t coexist in harmony. You can’t tell me that equality is not possible. That is nonsense. People just don’t want to change. They’d rather stick to the fears and predijuces they have, than to educate themselves about another culture and face the fact they may have had preconceived notions.

This has been a trying week, I tell you. Been so much stupid in the air. I have witnessed a good ol boys club (racism) with a situation which is just foolish in this day and age, along with ignorant family members (sorry, just being real). It’s like the old folks used to say, God has a sense of humor. I truly believe that, and it seems like sometimes he calls your bluff. You preach something, and end up getting into that exact situation where you have to walk the talk. I was just speaking about getting along with foolish people in your family, then…

Anyways, this should be a day to celebrate life, but you know I always go against the grain. A couple days back I felt led to open up and share some of my family history (or should I say people who passed). The point of that blog was to recognize the importance of relationships. Well today I have a little twist. I want to write about funny things that happen during that period of time people pass away. I mentioned two instances briefly in that blog, but I just wanted to expand on them.

STORY I – I will start with my mother-in-law. They have a small church (to paint the visual), so not really anyplace you can hide. So this woman gets up to sing, right. Let me pause. Have you ever been to a Hibachi restaurant, and the guy is slicing and dicing? He is chopping all fast, spinning stuff on the blade, blowing fire, doing tricks. Ok, keep that in mind. Back to the funeral. The lady starts the song and…the best way I can describe it is taking a piece of paper and ripping it down the middle. You know how it never really tears straight. Well her voice was one side of that paper, and the music was the other. They were going in two completely different directions and didn’t coincide whatsoever. I mean literally, if those notes were physical items, she would be like a Hibachi chef. She was throwing notes up in the air – slicing, and dicing, and spinning. It was like Benihana was on the mic. I wouldn’t even call her tone death. Can’t give that much credit because even a monotonous hum had more range. Ok, my intentions aren’t to be mean towards her, but I am trying to paint a picture. Poor thing (bless her little heart). I had to just keep kissing the back of my sons head to keep from cracking up. She butchered that song something terrible.

STORY II – Now that was bad, but this was worse. My mom’s funeral was at our home church. Nice size church. So the family is sitting down front, and the music begins to play. Let me back up. We went through ALL kinds of drama getting the program together because everybody and they moma wanted to sing. I mean it got so bad they literally had a song festival the day before with nothing but singing for 4 hours because that is how many songs they chose (an event I refused to attend because their hearts weren’t in the right place). Anyways, when I was doing the program and when they were throwing songs out there, I chose Going up Yonder. One of my (many) favorite songs growing up, and figured that choir couldn’t tear that song up too bad. My sister and the other woman (who both still attend the home church) were talking about this guy Michael who would sing. I didn’t know him, hadn’t visited that church in about 5 years (10 prior to that), so I just took them for their word.

So the funeral gets there. Of course I am an emotional wreck. Thought I could hold it together, and cried like…I can’t even explain. Not a boo-hoo cry, but like every tear in the reserve for the past 11 years just poured out silently. I think at this point they already closed the casket and service started, and you know how you have that wierd feeling after you cry. Like a suspended state of euphoria? On one hand you still hurt, but the other you feel cleansed. Almost makes you feel like you are going crazy. So I am playing with my sons, trying to smile and not make this a horrible moment for them. I had my head down talking to them (I will never forget this). The music starts, and I hear this high pitched, Maxwell type soprano squeal. I look up, and my first thought (Lord forgive me for this)…my first thought was – Aw, hell naw!

Ok, how can I describe this dude. I swear he looked like the illegitimate love child of Prince and Little Richard. Once again I was like what the hell man. I could at least give him some props if he could sing. I mean everybody knew tax evasion Wesley could probably kick Michael Jackson’s tail in BAD, but we still respected Mike cause he could hold a tone, and do his thing. But this cat at the funeral purely stunk, and he looked like he should be holding a plate of pancakes. I think I started chuckling because I couldn’t believe how bad it was. My wife knows I am a goof ball, so she tried her best not to look at me because once I get started, game over. I was just waiting for him to say – This bores me. Is anyone up for a game of basketball? How about you and your friends… versus me and The Revolution?

Ok, that is enough for now. How about you? What are some funny things that happened (if any) at the funeral, or during that time?

I want to talk about the death of relationships. I know ‘death’ is a morbid title and things most people don’t want to talk about, but today was one of those reflective days where I need to release. Don’t have any images or anything…going to just write. Forgive me in advance because when I am in these modes, my brain is all over the place.

See, I have been working on this family reunion website, and last night I got to a part where I had to start listing dates of birth and dates people passed away. Life is so so short. I preach that all the time. Try to find something to be thankful for everyday and hold on to it. It is pointless to waste time being mad about stuff in life, or mad at people. Folks fall out because someone told them something about themselves (which probably is true), or they are bipolar and think the whole world is out to destroy them. Granted, there are those family members who just suck. Sorry I couldn’t articulate that better, but you know what I mean. Those ones with just super funky foul stank personalities. I am not saying you have to go buddy buddy with them, but you can at least be nice for 5 mins when you have to deal with them.

I am a pretty reserved person, but I will just share this with you. I have had a lot of people pass away in my life. I still remember being 10yrs old and spending the night with my grandparents (mom worked 3rds). The night my grandfather passed, he fixed numerous things around the house he had been planning for a while. My mom got there about 7am to get me ready for school, and wake her father to give him his medicine. I remember her screaming “Daddy” and somehow this woman mustered the strength to haul him into the kitchen and perform CPR. At that point it was too late and he passed. I remember having to go to school thinking about that all day. I remember coming to see my grandmother knowing it would be the last time, and whispering in her ear she didn’t have to hold on anymore and I would be ok…and her passing the next morning. How I went to the cemetary and watched them lower her into the ground at the VA cemetery while everyone else was back in the church. How it was so dry and emotionless and how you watch how they lower the casket in all slow on movies, but in real life they almost drop it in. Like heck for all that I could have pushed the casket in myself (maybe it was just this crew and something slipped). I remember my sister and me fighting over some issues, and seeing her number come up on my caller ID at work…and how I didn’t answer, but something in my heart dropped because I just knew. How I listened to the voicemail and had to keep my composure at work hearing my mom just passed. How at the funeral, there was this dude that looked just like Prince with a plate of pancakes, and how I almost had to walk out because I wanted to laugh. I remember being in the room with hospice, my wife, and sister-in-laws…and literally watching my mother-in-law take her last breath. How at her funeral this woman was butchering this song so bad I had to kiss my kids to keep from laughing. I remember getting a call from my buddy back in OH saying his wife probably won’t make it through the night, and how I slept on the couch with the phone on the ottoman hoping for the best but expecting the worst. How I passed out, and my son came to wake me up at 7am nudging me with the phone, and me having to hear this young girl passed.

Sad thing is, I could continue (yes there were more). Point in all this most people look at our family and my myspace page, and think everything is all kosher because I have a pretty wife and kids, but I have lost a LOT of people close to me. That is why relationships are so important to me because death is so final. I have dealt with these situations as they were presented to me in my own way. Some people take death really hard, but for me it is such a familiar feeling with me. Don’t misconstrue, I have some HARD days, but what I mean is there are some things I don’t do…like go to a tombstone and talk. I think I did with my grandfather, but once I got older I realized that person is at rest, and it is basically just talking aloud to heal yourself. I have always heard people make comments like, “My dead grandmother was looking down on me and helped me win the race.” but when you really think about it, how can she only look down at you when when things are good? How about when you are doing dirt fornicating on the kitchen table with that person you aren’t supposed to be with? lol.

Ok, I make light of it, but all this to say appreciate these days you have. Spend time with those you love, and don’t let a petty argument, or pride, keep you from having a relationship with someone. I tell the mrs all the time, I truly believe that half the dead relationships out there (marriages, siblings, aunts, uncles, whatever) could be mended with a few short words of kindness. Most of the time though people just let pride eat at them until they make a situation worse than it has to be. There are 16 year marriages that break up over what could be corrected by a 16 min conversation. Pride is a terrible thing. Proverbs 16:18

This weekend I was playing with #4. I will admit that this kid has created a soft spot within me. Something about the way he looks into my eyes and smiles. He is the first boy who looks JUST like my wife, and it is so cute to see a little reflection of her walking around. I kiss him and hold his little stinky butt all the time. While he was sitting on my lap this weekend, I was working on a project. This is a project I started years back but quit due to discouragement – a family tree (and family website).

I mean no disrespect in any way by this comment, but I am just being real. The last reunion we had, I attempted to get photos from one of the guys in my family (self-proclaimed family photographer). My intentions were purely to scan them so that they would be preserved and available for all in a central repository. There is a lot more to story (I won’t go into detail), but let’s just say my request was met by resistance, and later on this guy passed away. All this to say I have short tolerance for old ignorance. How I respect my elders more than most, and feel there is a plethora of knowledge to obtain from them, I can’t deal with that stubborn ignorance sometimes. That ignorance that drives young people away and prevents family history from being preserved. You all know that one person who is stuck in their ways. We have clumps of history lost because certain people choose to hoard family information, and only reveal it if you are there under their terms. Those people who use their leverage (whether that be photos or knowledge) because that validates them. This is bigger than someone taking credit for something. The problem with this is most of these people hold on to it, and then die. You see my family is mostly gone. My paternal side is non-existent (story for another day). My maternal side I have one sibling. My mother, grandmother and grandfather passed away. There are no aunts, no uncles…so everything is on the great level.

So what I am dealing with is trying to convince an older generation that there needs to be a new way of thinking. We are entering into the next generation, and with that comes a fresh, new, innovative perspective. We are in the 21st century now, and it is time that we start to utilize many of the digital communication options that are now available for us. We have resources now that would allow us to keep in touch, network, and share information like we never have before. Problem is people are set in their ways and don’t want to change.

I am tired of people not investing back into the youth. If no information is transferred, how do they think future family reunions will occur? And quite frankly, I am frustrated with the way our community doesn’t bond. We have so many talented individuals in our family and could achieve so much growth, but we can unite because people either get jealous when another is successful, or have old issues they never forgave people for. I must admit, I am envious of other cultures at times. Mexicans will put 22 people in a house, and they all work and save their money, and do what they have to do for the better of the family. I have the utmost respect for their work ethic, diligence, and way their families stay tight knit. I admire how the Jewish community invests money back into their own. I like how Indian people network with one another, share resources, and study hard to pave a way for themselves.

I am getting off track, but I just wanted to vent. It is just sad that asking for family history, or trying to organize a family reunion is like pulling teeth (that aren’t loose).

I know a lot of people who have been hurt going to church one way or another. I grew up (was raised, basically lived) in the church as a youth. I won’t dive into my life story, but I had some serious issues with the actions of some of my old church members. Well, I let this anger drive me away from the church (and my relationship with God) for years using the same excuse most people use (they are hypocrites, this that and the other).

Since that period of time, I have grown to be a man and head of my own family. I have let a lot of that anger go. My wife and I were talking the other day, and I heard this minster speak this. It caught my interest as I always speak about people focusing on their relationship with God, versus religion. I thought this preacher used a good analogy (fossilization), so thought I would share. Keep in mind I am paraphrasing:

“People have been turned off of the church because they have been mixing religion with relationship. I had all the outer appearance right (according to what my religious organization called being saved). Until I got older, and I began to recognize underneath all that religious paraphernalia was a heart that was not purified. Was a person who struggled with sin. I still sung in the choir, and what happened was it became a struggle to live two lives…because what you are doing practicing schizophrenia…teaching yourself to become perfected as two different people. I realized how close I was to the image people said (saved), and how far I was from a relationship with God.

“Later on in life I was preaching, and praying to God telling him people aren’t getting it. Then he revealed this to me. He brought me to the 11th chapter of Ezekiel (Ezekiel 11:19). It says will take out of you the heart of flesh, and put withiin you a new heart…which is a heart of my spirit. That heart will become sensitive to My wills and My ways.

“So initially I didn’t understand, and God spoke to me. He told me that I will take out of you the heart of stone. You see the anatomy of stone is not the anatomy of human body. Stone can not be penetrated. What’s been happening is all these people trying to get through Me through religion, through church, through religious organizations, and they still have a heart of stone.

“When they hear the preacher preach, it is like a fossil impression. You hear the Word, and the Word is falling on a rock. We have fossils because (e.g. dinosaur age) something dead laid on the rock long enough and it left an impression on stone. What is happening is the Word of God is being preached, but peoples lives are not transformed for several reasons (not preached with power, anointing, etc.) So what is happening is people are hearing Word, but it is not penetrating. The Word is laying on them like a fossil so they have the image that they are they saved, and the image that they are changed, but in everyday life behind closed doors, they are not being changed.”

My son recently attended the TO Football Camp. As my friends know, I am a Niner fan living in Dallas. It is tough at times because people worship football here…especially the Longhorns and the Cowboys. Texans truly believe that hole was cut in the stadium so God could watch his favorite team play. Like God can’t see through metal, huh? Hasn’t developed that power yet. lol.

In any case, regardless of team, I have always been a TO fan. I argue with some of my older ex-coworkers back home about celebrations and whether or not that is good sportsmanship. How I wouldn’t necessarily let the kids who I coach do it, I still enjoy watching those on college and professional levels, and I don’t see anything wrong with it (lol). It brings excitement to the game, and from a defensive mindset like mine…if you don’t like it, then stop it! It really is that simple. I bring that up because TO still has my favorite celebration to date…the infamous star. Funny thing is Cowboy fans get hype talking about how G. Teague hit him, but at that point did it really matter? That was the ultimate disrespect, but since I dislike the Cowboys, it was wonderful. Let’s take a moment to pause in remembrance of a former Niner…

Ok, so back to the camp. I think it was cool to do this for the local kids. They had a blast out in the heat, and my son just loves the gift bag he received. Some of those kids were unreal. This one kid ran a 4.3 40. I was up at the top of the stands, and before they even called out the time you knew he was special because this kid was ROLLIN’. I am not the type of person who gets star struck, but I will say that dag on Marion Barber looks just like he does on the cover of my son’s video game NFL Street 2…lol.

The first day I went solo, but the second day I took my wife and other sons with me (that littlest one is something else I am telling you). I won’t post all the photos, but here are a few I took…

* Here are some additional photos from the camp from the professional photographers

I mentioned in an earlier post that I had a discussion with some friends over whether or not playing fantasy football is considered gambling. Of course the majority of us agreed, then I had this one goofy buddy of mine start throwing out scenarios. He basically stated the stock market is technically gambling too. As I feel it is a gamble, my initial thought was that it was not gambling because you are purchasing ownership of a company. It entitles the holder to a claim on assets as well as a fraction of the profits that company generates (investopedia). But some still say it is gambling. If that were so, then what about mutual funds and other investments? Trying to open my mind to different points of view, I listened to what he had to say and it did provoke some thought.

Granted he is a novice investor, I decided to share my friend’s response with you: You know I’ve been playing in the market now for about 1 1/2 yrs, and man if that’s not gambling I don’t know what is…lol. Granted the more established company less risk, but man you make your real money by investing in those “C” companies that are either new or maybe coming off a bad year for whatever reason. It’s less than 50/50 whether they’ll do well enough to allow you to even break on your investment. So I’m like, if I knew going in of the potential risk of losing money and trust me its a lot more than $50 (fantasy leagues, lol) …is that considered gambling? I started thinking like man I preparing for the future but I could rob a bank and say the same thing.

Then he just started getting outright silly: Or how about kids that play those games at Chuck-E -Cheese where you got the little hand and you put in a qtr to see if you can grab the stuff at the bottom. Man how often did you really grab anything??? Has to be gambling!!!! Or the majority of all games at the fair that are actually structured for you to fail and we still play time and time again…Gamblin!!!!

I had yet another friend tell me - What about poker? The whole game is based on gambling. you can’t play poker without gambling. Chips or cash but something has to be wagered.

Of course people try to find ways to justify what they are doing, and some comments were meant for comedic value only. Yet in still, it still makes you think. I went back to my original e-mail where someone stated that he didn’t look at fantasy football as gambling until he looked up the definition:

- To bet on an uncertain outcome, as of a contest.
- To play a game of chance for stakes.
- To take a risk in the hope of gaining an advantage or a benefit.

Per the definitions above, stocks would technically fall into that category. So my question to you – How do you define gambling, and where do you draw the line? Do you consider the stock market gambling? Why or why not? How about fantasy football? Poker? Other?

My lil one is really into this Yo Gabba Gabba. This song is in my head right now. Don’t knock it till you try it. Crank your speakers up….

I’m gonna eat, yea, yummy-yummy
I’m gonna eat, yea, yummy-yummy
Chicken (yea), in my tummy, party-party (yea), in my tummy
Cheese (yea), in my tummy, party-party (yea), in my tummy
Juice (whyle out)
There’s a party in my tummy, say yummy, say yummy-yummy.
Why are you sad?
Carrots want to go to the party in my tummy?
Do green beans want to go to the party in my tummy?

Man, I think I am losing it!

Today is an official, I am not trying to do nothing at work day. Going through a little storm right now, so trying to truck forward and let life continue without missing a beat or letting it distract me. The morning already started off funky, so as I checked my BB on the walk to work, I was expecting some ignorant work email (because apparently stupid is in the air this week). To my surprise my inbox was relatively sane, so I proceeded to check my personal address. I saw that a friend of mine in OH sent me an invite for fantasy football. I just couldn’t believe it was that time of the year again. Like most men in this country around football season, I am an avid fan of the sport and get my panties in a bunch over yards, tds, tackles, the whole nine (pun intended).

For those who don’t understand Fantasy Football, I guess I could try to explain…but then again that could get lengthy. If you want to know, voice your opinion and I may dedicate a blog to it. Back to work though. I make it in on time (hip hip ho…) and plan out my day. Aside from coaching, I am sitting there thinking about what the new fantasy football season holds, new rules, and possibly implementing a trophy this year (yea, it is that serious).

I shot an email over to some friends and had a little debate over whether or not participating in Fantasy Football leagues with payouts is gambling (I believe the latter). Still in gridiron mode, I began looking for equipment for my son, and I ran across this Under Armour cup. Never really thought about fashion consciousness and an athletic cup in the same sentence before, but I must admit that I am fond of this design. Maybe I can start wearing one to work? Or better yet, I could get one for the bedroom. Doesn’t it look like it constrains a caged beast?

Will you protect this house? I will, I will, Under Armour, HUNH!! - [click to watch]

I love that commercial man!