Man Among Boys

This post has 364 words. It will take approximately 3 minutes, 38 secondes for reading it.

I don’t know how you feel about same sex marriage.  I don’t know if you’re hetero or homosexual.    Honestly, I really don’t care.  I just don’t like hypocrites, which is why I’m writing this piece today.

I was watching CNN while doing my morning cardio and came across a piece about same sex marriage.  In San Francisco yesterday, the government ruled that California’s Proposition 8, a voter-approved ban on same-sex marriage, is unconstitutional. Chief U.S District Judge Vaughn Walker, wrote in his opinion that “Proposition 8 fails to advance any rational basis in singling out gay men and lesbians for denial of a marriage license. Indeed, the evidence shows Proposition 8 does nothing more than enshrine in the California Constitution the notion that opposite-sex couples are superior to same-sex couples.”  Frankly, I agree.  Gay people should have the right to marry and have f*cked up relationships just like the rest of us.

Now I’m coming at you hypocrites opposing same sex marriage.

The main argument has been that same sex marriage invalidates the sanctity of marriage and demeans the union between a man and a woman.  Sorry, but “The Bachelor” did that a long time ago.

When you can basically hold a contest to see who you’re going to marry, the concept of marriage isn’t all that sacred.  I don’t see the people opposing same sex marriage picketing ABC for pimping potential brides out or for trading wives on Wife Swap like they were NBA players. I don’t see them up in arms because the networks are making marriage a joke.  I see this as a much bigger threat to the concept of marriage; at least those homosexual couples love each other.  They wouldn’t fight so hard for this if they didn’t.  The people that go on The Bachelor, The Bachelorette, and Wife Swap are in it for a check or exposure.

In closing, those of you opposing same sex marriage are full of sh*t.  Think about that during commercial interruptions of “Who Wants To Marry A Midget” (you know that’s coming down the pike).

Feel free to comment.

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This post has 263 words. It will take approximately 2 minutes, 37 secondes for reading it.

Check out this YouTube piece about  case that happened in Florida.  I was watching the news and came across this story.  I’d be interested to hear your feedback.

A mother caught her 5 year old son playing with matches, so she asked a deputy to stage a fake arrest, complete with handcuffs and a ride in the back of the squad car.

She says she did it to teach him a lesson, to scare him straight so he wouldn’t do it again.  Check it out.  I apologize if it’s not clear.  You can YouTube “5 Year Old Fake Arrest” if you want another stream or to find a longer one.

What’s Trueman’s take on it?…..GOOD.  GLAD IT HAPPENED.  Scare his ass!  Mom made a power move that will stay with her son for the rest of his life, and I bet he’ll grow up to be a model citizen.

To all of you saying it was too severe, even crying over this, please, for your own good and the good of all, shut the f*ck up.  Your time-out-stand-in-the-corner-one-minute-per-year-old bullsh*t hasn’t worked.  Kids are worse than ever.  They’re disrespectful and running wild.  We’re losing the battle with them, so it’s time to get old school again.

To the Florida mom who had her son “arrested”, Trueman has your back.  You’ve got more balls than most of them men reading this.  Keep up the good work.

What do you think?  Feel free to comment.

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This post has 605 words. It will take approximately 6 minutes, 3 secondes for reading it.

I went to the Verizon store yesterday to pay my bill and cancel my plan since I’ll be leaving for Costa Rica soon (3 weeks!).  As I approached the door, I hear high pitched screams from inside. There was a teenager, I guess about 15, who was cursing her mother out, calling her all kinds of b*tches and assholes because she had the older model Curve on the family plan and wanted to upgrade to the Storm 2, I guess about a difference of $200.  Mom didn’t have the money so she couldn’t do it.

I tried to handle my business with the other associate but couldn’t really focus because this misbehaved, ill mannered little tramp across from me kept yelling loud enough for everyone in the store to hear. Her mother, noticeably embarassed, stood there with closed eyes, mumbling about wishing her daughter would calm down and “wait until your father hears about this.”

My thought was, “lady, if you punch your daughter in the mouth and stomp her into the carpet a few times, I’ll tell the cops that she tripped over her shoelaces and busted her lip when they get here.”

There is no way on God’s green earth, any kid, mine or yours would get away with that.  Oh hell no. Call family services or whoever you need to.  I don’t care.  If your kid tried to mouth off to me like that, I’d take off my belt, pass it to you, and politely ask you to handle your business…and mine knows better than to even try it. Bernie Mac (RIP Bernie, you were a true King of Comedy) used to talk about beating kids in their sleep; this little girl needed some night time visits from Mr. Leather Belt as my mother used to say.

Sometimes we need to be reminded of what a strong family and parental unit looks like.  I remember an episode of “Everybody Hates Chris” where Chris mouthed off to his mother “WHAT??!!” because he wanted to be a bad boy and impress some girl.  The next scene was of him in the hospital on his stomach with his butt in the air.  A doctor was looking at an x-ray with what seemed to be his mother’s shoe rammed up his ass saying “I think we can get it out.”

“Everybody Hates Chris” can be a bit sophomoric and buffoon like, but it gives a great picture of what a strong family is.  Julius and Rochelle are in charge.  There no question about that.  The kids are loved, but aren’t bribed or coddled.  And there’s no backtalk.

Most of all, Rochelle can handle business on her own.  You don’t hear her talking about waiting for Julius to come home to help discipline the kids.  He’s working two jobs so he’s busy taking care of the financial end.  SHE runs the household and she’ll whup the boys just as quick as the girl.  She even puts Julius in check too when she needs to.  Rochelle ain’t afraid of nobody.  Even when she’s wrong, she’s right.

If you want to learn how to learn to raise your kids, watch a few episodes of “Everybody Hates Chris.”  You’ll have to look past Tyler James Williams sticking his ears out and bulging his eyes like one of those blackface-type Three Stooges episodes (“Dis House Sho Dunn Gon Crazy!), but some good lessons can be learned.

That’s a strong family right there…even if they don’t really exist.

Feel free to comment.

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This post has 696 words. It will take approximately 6 minutes, 57 secondes for reading it.

I’m sorry for not posting the last few days.  I’m in Chicago on business and I haven’t been able to get to Man Among Boys as often as I’d like.

When two people have been in a relationship for a long time, sometimes the love gives way to hurt and pain, and that’s when the relationship ends.  Women become more emotional, and men shield themselves and become colder.   There’s a lot of hate, but eventually, even that gives way to understanding. I have an interesting story to tell.

My son has been sick for the last few days.  He’s been impacted  and has stomach cramping severe enough that he’s gone to the hospital the last two days.  My ex-wife and I have never been able to communicate, but when it comes to anything that has to do with our son, we make due.

I had to fly out to Chicago but I wanted to stop by and see him on my way to the airport to make sure he was alright.  I knocked on the door and my ex-wife greeted me with a warm “hello”.  I replied with my usual “hey” and walked in.

I walked into the living room and made my way to the stairs to go to our son’s room. My ex-wife stopped me short and asked me if I wanted something to drink.

“Is it poisoned?”

“No, it’s not poisoned.”

Hmmm.  So she was just interested in making sure that I wasn’t thirsty.  That was strange.  She was being…nice.

For those of you who know me personally know that our relationship and marriage was very rocky to a point that we hated…I mean HATED…each other.  We have designated places for when we pick up or drop off our son because we don’t feel comfortable alone with each other.  Our son has a cell phone so he can call either of us without having to involve the other.

I’ve laid down to sleep and had dreams of watching her take a bath and throwing an electric space heater in.  For Christmas, I thought about getting on some Kill Bill 2 sh*t and giving her a huge box of money wrapped with a big bow…and when she ripped open her present, have a black mamba with a Santa hat on spring out and bite her on the neck.

But this was different. So I decided to go with it for now.

I said thanks, took the drink and headed up to my son’s room.  I kissed him on the forehead, plopped down on the bed next to him, and we played a few Xbox games until I had to head to the airport.  My ex-wife stayed in the room a little while and watched.  All three of us laughed and joked a while, which was really weird because the conversations my ex-wife and I usually have revolve around the words “f*ck you”, “b*tch”, and “drop dead” .

You could see the joy on my son’s face and he looked back and forth at us.  It almost made him feel better.

For those of you saying “Awwww, that’s so nice. They’re made for each other. They’ll get back together”, uh….NO.  There is no reconciliation.  We’re ex’s for a reason.  Our time has run its course.  Maybe we’re realizing that although we’re not good together, that doesn’t mean that we have to hate each other.  I hope she finds someone that is crazy enough to love her.  Two crazy people can stay together forever.

As I got up and made my leave, she wished me a safe trip and told me to call her and my son when I got in to let them know I got there.  Hmm, another act of concern and kindness…gotta be a full moon somewhere.

Or maybe we just turned the corner.  Even after the hurt and pain, we still have a beautiful child to care for.

We’ll see what happens the next time we meet.

Feel free to comment.

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This post has 806 words. It will take approximately 8 minutes, 3 secondes for reading it.

Pride is one of a man’s best and worst attributes.  Pride will make a man work as hard as he can and give his best effort.  Pride will also blind a man to the fact that there comes a time in life where it is time to move on and “pass the torch.”

This post is a bit more personal.  It has to do with someone I admire and look up to…my father.

For those of you who watch the national weather, you’ll know that we had a major snowstorm in the Northeast the weekend before Christmas. Some areas got anywhere from 18 – 24 inches of snow.  I live in the area that got the 24 inches.

Anyway, just as I’d dug myself out, I got a call from my mother asking if I could come by.  She sounded worried and asked could I come over as soon as possible.  I drove over as fast as I could, considering the weather, to find my father digging out the driveway.

I grew up here so I know how bad the snow can get, but this was the most snow we’d gotten in years. The plows had already come through so they pack heaps and snow in front of everyone’s house.  And there was dad, bent over and grunting considerably to dig himself out.

This bring me to my story of the Big Shovel. For was long as I can remember, there has always been the Big Shovel, about 4 feet long with a large metal end that looked like it could move mountains with one swipe.  When I was younger, it reminded me of a battle-axe with my father being the only black Viking in the neighborhood as he dealt the snow his wrath.

But I’m not so young anymore, and my dad not so mighty.  You can only expect so much from the old man.  He’s still pretty strong for his age and will probably outlive most of us, but you could tell that Father Time had finally gotten a hold of him. He seemed to struggle with the ice.  Instead of the superhero I’d looked up to for so many years…he looked…human…mortal.

I knew why my mom called me now.  It was time for me to take the Big Shovel.

It wasn’t like I didn’t try to take it before.  All through high school and college, my dad insisted and demanded that he take the big shovel and the brunt of the work.  Even after I had a family of my own and stopped by to check on them, dad was still outside shoveling away.  He’d always told me that’s what the man of the house does.  I was always given the smaller plastic shovel and was tasked with clearing the walkway and the steps.  From the car area down to the street was the “man work.”

I thought about how I’d approach him about it.  I really did.  My dad is a very proud man, who often tells of how he and his brothers had to go and chop trees for the wood stove to heat the house.  I remember him attending a football banquet at his old high school where he presented an award to an athlete that broke his all time rushing record, a record that stood for almost 40 years.  He was strong as an ox and took pride in taking care of his loved ones.

But this wasn’t the same man.  I wasn’t as concerned about his physical well-being as I was his pride.  As a man, we always take pride in taking care of our family and home.  And he couldn’t do that anymore…at least in this case.

I stepped out of my car and put on my gloves.  I approached my dad and gently tapped him on the shoulder.  He looked at me as if he knew it was time.

“Hey dad, let me take over for a while.”

He gave me his usual “I got it” and went back to work so I let him shovel a few more times until he was out of breath.  Then I tapped him on the shoulder again and smiled.  He gave me the shovel and went into the house.

It’s a hard thing, letting go of your pride and stepping aside.  Admitting that you’ve taken something as far as you can.  The mind is willing but the body is able.  But eventually, we all have to do that.  My father finally passed the Big Shovel onto me, and one day, I’ll pass it onto my son.

…or maybe I’ll just call him and tell him to take it.  That ice seems to get heavier and heavier.

Feel free to comment.

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This post has 453 words. It will take approximately 4 minutes, 31 secondes for reading it.

I hope you all had a  Happy Thanksgiving. I hope that you ate lots to turkey, watched a few of the NFL games, and fell into a comatose like sleep.  I also hope that you learned a little something about family.

I think that sometimes we take our family for granted.  I mean they’ve always been around, even when you didn’t want them to be.  We have holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas when we’re supposed to appreciate them a little bit more, but shouldn’t we do that all year long?

I have a friend who spent a non traditional Thanksgiving with her mother this year.  It was just the two of them because, as happens to all of us, the rest of her family was pulled in so many different directions that it’s hard to keep up with everyone.  She and her mother went out to eat dinner…and then went bowling.  She texted me later to let me know that it might have been the best Thanksgiving ever.   She got to spend some one-on-one time with Mom and learned a few personal things about Mom she probably didn’t know before. My friend said that she wouldn’t have gotten to know Mom better over the loud roar of Thanksgiving conversation, family catching up, and NFL Fox Sports news casts.

I learned a lesson of my own.  My family got together for the typical Thanksgiving dinner.  Everyone was eating and enjoying each other’s company….except my teenaged cousin.  She usually sits in the corner, eats dinner, and gets on her laptop.  Everyone is older than her, talking about jobs and their kids growing up and going to school.  She’ll take part in the conversation for a while,  but then goes off to do her own thing.

After I  ate, I went into the living room like I usually do to watch a lopsided football game.  I peered over at my cousin. She just looked up from her computer just long enough to catch my eye, smiled back, and went back into techno-world.  Instead of watching the game, I went to talk to her for a while. We talked about her love of Korean pop music, that she wants to go to college in Japan, and that she eventually wants to help design computer and video games.  She’s a really smart kid and she has a bright future.

Even though get-togethers sometimes seem like a bad scene from “Madea’s Family Reunion” and they get on my nerves, they are my family.  You don’t have to love your family, but I do.

Did you learn anything new about your family?  Feel free to comment.

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