Man Among Boys

This post has 505 words. It will take approximately 5 minutes, 3 secondes for reading it.

Today is the day went most of the kids in America will dress up in costumes of their favorite characters they will only wear once, go out in their neighborhoods, and do what most consider a socially acceptable method of begging by saying “Trick or Treat!” to get  candy.  

It’s also a day when most parents will have to trust their children and begin to let go.

The other day, I found that I’m not cool enough to hang out with my son anymore.  He called me and asked me if it was ok if he went Trick or Treating with his friends instead of the old man this year.  He’s 10 now and I guess he’s beginning to feel his oats.

As much as it hurt me to say “yes”, I did.  I still remember the first time I took out.  He had on his little Spiderman costume and could barely say “Twick or Tweet”, but we got around to just about every house in the neighborhood.  After all that walking, he was too tired to even think about eating his candy and just went to sleep.

Dads, even though it’s hard sometimes we have to let our kids grow up.  The best thing you can arm them with is common sense and a set of rules to go by.  Drill these into your kids head before you let them go out.

• Give you child your cell phone (or if they have their own, make sure it’s charged).  Call them every once in a while to make sure they’re ok and that they’re staying in the neighborhood.  Let them know that if they don’t answer the phone or don’t call back right away, Trick or Treat is over and you’ll come looking  for them to make sure they’re safe.

• Establish the Trick or Treat route they are to take.  No sidestreets or unknown areas.

• Tell all of the kids to stay together as a group.  They all go on the porch, they all come off.  No one goes up alone.

• Under no circumstances is anyone to go into anyone’s house.  I don’t care if one of the kids knows the parent at the door or not.

• No candy is to be eaten while they’re out Trick or Treating. When they get home, inspect all candy with a flashlight (if there are any pins or blades, they will shine in the light).  I knew of a kid that bit into a Snickers bar while they were out and got cut up with pins.

If this is your child’s first time going out alone, let them know that this is a big step and that you are trusting them to make the right decisions while they’re out.  This will give them a sense of responsiblity.

And don’t be cheap and cut the lights out when kids come to your door.  Have a heart.

Happy Halloween.

Feel free to comment.

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This post has 887 words. It will take approximately 8 minutes, 52 secondes for reading it.

Fellas, if you take offense to this next post, I really don’t care because you’re probably one of the clowns that’s doing this.

I like to tell stories about some things in my life that will help give a lesson to the next man.

I was in Atlanta visiting a friend of mine.  We were at a strip club…..

(Let me digress for a minute.  For any ladies reading this, yes, I go to the strip club. I like the strip club.  That doesn’t mean I hate or demean women or that I’m a chauvinist.  It also doesn’t mean I see women solely as sexual objects or that ‘ll cheat on a woman if I’m in a monogamous relationship.  All that means is occasionally, I like slightly glistened breasts sprinkled with glitter or buttcheeks the size of Christmas hams bouncing in my face to loud, fast paced music .  Don’t judge me.)

Anyway, as I was saying, we were at the strip club, and I’m getting a lapdance.  I’m talking to the young lady and we’re kidding around, having a good time.  I mean, just because she’s slapping her titties to each side of my head like a ping pong ball doesn’t mean that we can’t share a laugh.  After she’s done, I thank her and pay.

Next, this fool walks up to me and says, “Yo, I don’t appreciate you talking to my girl like that.”

I kind of shook my head in disbelief and turned to talk to my friend.  Mr. Fool steps in between us and repeats what he said.

My reply was something like, “Do you mean the girl that was giving me a lapdance a second ago? Your girl…she’s a stripper? That’s her job.  Stop handcuffin‘”.

(I say “something like” because after a couple of Patron shots, you really don’t remember everything exactly as you said it).

Why would someone be so insecure about their girl talking to another guy while she’s working that they would step to someone else that’s paying her with money she’ll probably spend on you later?

The dictionary definition of handcuffing is “to restrain with or as if with handcuffs” or “to render ineffective or impotent”.  My definition is when one of you insecure fools goes to far in trying to keep your girlfriend/fiance/wife  from talking to any other man, or sometimes to anyone at all,  for any reason.

Ladies, you do it too.  I’m addressing the guys on this one but some of you fall in this same category.

Here are a few clues to tell if you’re handcuffin’.  If you are doing any of these, have some self respect and grow up:

• If you notice your lady makes incidental eye contact with another guy while you’re out together, and you quickly throw your arm around her to show him whose girl this is, you’re handcuffin’.

• If your lady has male friends and you feel you have to meet all of them and be “buddy buddy” so you know who the competition is, you’re handcuffin’.

• If you don’t want your girl talking to one of her girlfriends because the girlfriend doesn’t like you, you’re handcuffin’.

• If your girlfriend is on the phone, and you pick up the line in another room to see who she’s talking to, you’re handcuffin’.

• If you have to call your girlfriend every five minutes while she’s having  night out with the girls, you’re handcuffin’.

If any of these things describe how you act, you need to stop that right now.  It’s that kind of behavior that will make your girl want to cheat in the first place.

Fellas, I’m going to clue you into something you probably don’t know.  When it comes to cheating, women are 10 times better at it than we are.  I’m not sticking up for the women on this one, just stating fact.  Your girl can glance at a man from the corner of her eye and know if he’s got on boxers or briefs.   If she’s going to cheat on you, she’ll do it sly and you probably won’t know until she wants you to.  Handcuffin’ her will only make her want to cheat on you more.

If you have to worry about your lady leaving you to the point that you are willing to follow her, cyberstalk, or show your ass at her job, you really have a problem.  Why are you with her then?

Do yourself a favor.  Go to your local pharmacy and go down the aisle where they sell the creams and ointments.  Look for a long rectangular box with bold face red capital letters.  It should say “TESTICLES.”  Rub it into your crotch area twice a day until you grow a set.  Handcuffin’ just ain’t manly.

The only time I’ve ever liked handcuffin” is when I was playing “Cops and Robbers” in the bedroom and I was being “interrogated” (again, don’t judge me).  Other than that, I’m not with the jealous, insecure bullsh*t.

What do you think about handcuffin’?  Feel free to comment.

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This post has 519 words. It will take approximately 5 minutes, 11 secondes for reading it.

I was at a female friend’s place last Sunday watching a few of the football games.  Nothing sexual.  We’ve always flirted, but we kept it at that.  We kicked back on the sofa, threw a few pillows back and forth, ordered a pizza, and got ready for a full day of watching what many be the manliest of all sports.

She sat there in her t-shirt and oversized sweats, with her hair pulled back in a single pony tail.  No make up or perfume.  Just two friends layin’ back.

Out of the blue she says to me perhaps the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard…

“Notice how Eli (Manning) always says “Omaha” right before the snapcount they’re going on.  He might need to switch that up. The defense is starting to catch on.”

My head quickly snapped to.  Huh? How did she catch onto that?? And she said it before the announcer says the same thing.

Suddenly, she seemed to glow a bit, almost radiant.  A while later…

“Idiot!! Why would you pass on 3rd and a mile inside your own 10 yard line? You’ve given the other team great field position on the kickoff.  Why don’t you just give the game away? Moron.”

I smiled at her as she started talking about how the coach has been calling boneheaded plays all game, but I wasn’t paying attention.   I just kept staring at her longingly.  Luckily, I was able to come to my senses and focus on the game.

I almost got trapped.

Fellas, it can happen to you too.  Beware.  Nowadays, women are infiltrating the inner sanctum of our mancaves.  Football Sundays are no longer just ours.  Women are watching boxing more and more.  The commissioner of my fantasy football league is a woman (she’s good too).

It’s not a new concept.  We men have been doing that for years.  Tell me you haven’t tried to cook a woman a meal to impress her. Tell me you didn’t watch Eddie Murphy as Marcus Graham in the movie “Boomerang” put on his mac and seduce Lela Rochon’s fine ass  and say….”Hmmmm, rosemary, huh.  I’ll have to add some of that next time I cook salmon” (great movie, rent if you haven’t seen it).

I’ve talked with female friends of mine that admitted to me they learned more about a sport to trap a man.  I’m not saying that there aren’t some women out there that are genuinely interested in football, but when a female friend of yours starts breaking down the zone blitz to you, your radar should be going up.

Women are smart fellas.  No longer are they thinking “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”  Now, they’re telling you why a wide receiver’s yards after catch should be higher.

If a girl you’re dating know more about your favorite sport than you, she’s got a plan.

I’m just trying to look out for you.

What are your thoughts? Feel free to comment.

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This post has 725 words. It will take approximately 7 minutes, 15 secondes for reading it.

I have an interesting story to tell.

This past weekend, I took my son to Great Adventure for Fright Fest.  The park is decked out for Halloween and the staff get dressed like ghouls and goblins and tries to scare the living daylights out of you.

We got on the Superman ride with these two young white kids.  They couldn’t have been older than 13.  They said “hi” as the carriage the four of us were in lifted us into the air and took off.

As we dipped, turned and twisted through the air (I hate rollercoasters), I heard a very loud and unnerving noise…

“JIGGABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”

I turned to my right and the young white teenager next to me was screaming at the top of his lungs, lips puckered up…

“JIGGABOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”

I was in disbelief.  My son and I were sitting right next to him and he’s saying this.  This young punk.  I figured the best course of action was to grit my teeth and get through the ride.

(If you haven’t figured it out, yes, I’m African-American.  My son is African-American and Puerto-Rican.  I call him my “Bor-Negro.”)

As the ride slowed down towards the end, I turned to Eminem’s stunt double and asked him, “Young man, why would you say that?”

“Say what….jiggaboo?”, he replied.

“Yes,” I continued.  “You know what that means??”

To quote a Talib Kweli lyric, “the question was rhetorical, the answer is horrible…”

“No, I don’t’ know what it means.  I just hear my dad say it a lot and I thought it was a cool sounding word.”

Now, I was no longer mad at the little boy.  I was mad at his father.  His father thought it acceptable to say those kind of words in front of his son.  If you’re ignorant enough to say that in front of him, at least be man enough to tell him what it means so your son doesn’t look like an ass in public.  Be man enough to let your son know that you don’t have the intelligence to judge a man by the “content of his character” and that you probably don’t’ have the “testicular fortitude” to say that to someone’s face.

I told the young man that was a horrible, offensive word.  He instantly apologized.  At that point, I honestly believed, and still believe that he wasn’t being hurtful.  He really didn’t know.

It just so happens when we exited the ride, his father was waiting for him outside.  My son and I waved goodbye as we saw his son ask, “Dad, what’s a jiggaboo?”  His father turned as pale as a ghost and caught my eye staring at him, waiting for the answer.

My moment was interrupted by my own sin.  My son looked up and asked me “Dad, what’s a jiggaboo?”

My sin was for a different reason.  My little boy was getting older (he’s 10) and I’ve tried to protect him, so I’d never really told him how cold people can be when it comes to race.  I can’t protect him forever, even though I’d like to.

I needed to man up.

I wasn’t going to let this ruin our night, and I knew that if I didn’t tell him, he’d be wondering about it the whole time we were there.  So I told him.

He stood there for a minute and thought.  And as I had to grab him by the arm and pull him back (“I’ll be right back, Dad.  I’ma go smack the chap off his lips”), I told him that if you spend all of your time fighting people like that, you’ll be fighting for the rest of your life.  If they put their hands on you, beat em’ like they owe you money, but don’t people like that get to you.

He smiled, gave me a hug, and we starting walking towards another ride.  I took a look back at the young white boy, and I started to feel sorry for him in a way.  The sins of  his father’s ignorance would be passed onto another generation.

And we wonder why things won’t get better.

What are your thoughts?  Feel free to comment.

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This post has 1005 words. It will take approximately 10 minutes, 3 secondes for reading it.

If you walk around your office, you’re bound to see some interesting set ups in people’s cubicles, desks, and personal offices. Some people have potted plants. Others have pictures they brought in from home. There are usually a wide assortment of nick-nacks, family photos, and coffee mugs. It seems quite comfortable.

That’s the problem.

I remember working in Philadelphia and having to attend a senior management meeting for a new Human Resources initiative. It was all about “work life balance” and how we have to take into account our employees life outside of the office. One of our vice presidents chimed in with, “Here’s an idea…work while you’re at work. Balance your life on you own time.”

As much as companies talk about “balance”, that sums up the way they feel. You’re there to work and your personal issues shouldn’t interfere. I don’t even know if that’s wrong; you’re there to work and paid well (hopefully) for it. Keep your work and personal lives separate.  That’s why it tickles me when I see offices with so many personal effects. The office is not your home; the office is your office. Home is home. Don’t try to combine the two.

I had a very interesting conversation once early in my working career. If I see someone in a position that I want to be in one day, I try to use them as a mentor (whether they know it or not) so I can advance my career. I was a junior project team member (the guy that crunches a few numbers, runs copies, and gets coffee, basically) on a project being run by a guy we’ll call “R”. “R” seemed to have it all, from the corner office with the dark red mahogany wood to the personal parking space…to the mid six figure annual bonus. Seemed like a good guy to mark as a mentor.

One day “R” called me to his office to meet with him and review some numbers I’d put together for the project. I straightened my tie and walked into his office…and it was empty. Empty. Sure, he had a copy of the company’s annual report and a few binders of work product in the corner, but not much else. I counted three personal effects: a coffee mug his kids bought him, a picture of his family, and something his kids gave him the last Father’s Day. Everything else belonged to the company.

We started talking and I drummed up the courage to ask him why his office was so empty. I remember him laughing and telling me something I’ll never forget.

“Never have anything in your office that you can’t pick up and leave with in 30 seconds or less.”

He explained to me his reasoning behind that statement, and I’ve carried it with me to this day. It reminds you of where you work and where you live. Your office is your office, not your home. Stop trying to make it a home.

This philosophy prepares you just in case anything happens. Company loyalty went the way of the do do bird long ago.  Hell, the POST OFFICE is reducing its workforce.  I know people that kissed all types of ass and did everything short of “yassa bossin” (and some even did that), but when the next round of layoffs came, they were told to pack their things with everyone else.

If you’re ever laid off or fired, you have to be mentally ready to sever ties.  The physical part is easy: you’ll be escorted out.

You need to have a 30 second exit strategy that prepares you to leave your job if you have to.  If you’ve prepared yourself, you’ll give yourself a great chance to rebound quickly.  I’ve given you some of the key components below.

• Keep your office “lean”. Only have there what you need there. A few personal effects are ok, but only what you can pick up and walk out with immediately.   No long drawn out scene of you getting emotional while packing a cardboard box and saying goodbye.  Leave with your dignity in tact.  Like I said, this is more mental than physical.

• Keep your office contacts updated. Don’t wait until you leave to get the contact information of people in your office. If you wait, you may not get a chance to get contacts because companies will literally walk you out. Get your contacts in your Rolodex and take that with you when you go; let them know you’ll be in touch.

• Update your resume as often as needed. This is where many tenured or job-devoted people fail because they think they don’t need to update their resume if they’re not changing jobs.  Everytime you get a new job title, accomplish a task, or change departments, update your personal resume. You want to be able to get an updated resume into market immediately.

• Go on a job interview at least once a year, even if you’re happy with your job and aren’t planning to leave. You need to stay aware of what employers are looking for in the market place and how job requirements have changed. Have you noticed how a lot more jobs have “Spanish preferred” in the job description? Will you be ready when that becomes “Spanish required”? How much Spanish will you need to know? Will you only need to speak it, or read and write it as well?  You need to know.

• Keep networking, whether it’s on Facebook (yes, employers do look at Facebook, smarten up), LinkedIn, or any associations you might or should belong to.  It increases your chances of getting back on your feet sooner than later.

If you follow this strategy, you’ll be ready if the “pink slip” ever comes to your desk.  30 seconds should be all you need.

Feel free to comment.

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This post has 690 words. It will take approximately 6 minutes, 54 secondes for reading it.

I have a bit of a dilemma.

I have a very good friend of mine who I’ll call “X”.  “X” and I have been friends for as long as I can remember.  He was always a quick-witted cat with a sense of humor.  We went to school and grew up together.  When we both got married, we helped plan each other’s bachelor parties, and when we both got divorced, we threw each others emancipation parties (we escaped).

“X” and I have been through everything together.  Dated girls and their best friends and switched if we like the other better.   We played “wingman” on double dates so the other could get lucky. Our kids are even friends.

I was over at his place one night, drinking a few beers and talking smack.  I thought there wasn’t anything “X” could tell me that would surprise me.  I was wrong….

“I’m gay.”

I was hoping he meant gay like happy because he won the MegaMillions, but no, he meant I-like-guys gay.

Here’s a guy who stood by my side on the football field and knocked the snot out of a running back who came through the middle.  Here’s a guy who you never had to convince to go to the strip club and get some boobs pressed in his face.  How could he be gay? I’ve often joked that I didn’t mind hanging out with gay guys because that’s more p*ssy for me.  But this time, it was different.  This time, it was one of my best friends…and he’s gay.

We talked about this for a while over a beer.  I kept asking him “Are you sure? Maybe you’re just curious.”  He said he’d been keeping this inside for years but couldn’t hide it anymore.

Then, of course, I had to ask the typical dumb macho straight guy question that we ask to every gay man…

“You ain’t tryin’ to f*ck me, are you?”

He laughed and I cracked a smile.  After all, he’s still “X”.  But I fear things will change now.  If I’m going on a date and I need a “wingman” to babysit for me, I can’t call him.  I don’t think he’ll be going to the strip club with me again.  Hell, will he be changing his beer for a cosmo?

I don’t agree with his sexual preference, but it’s not for me to judge.  Me, I love women, and for all the bullsh*t they put us through, they are still the most beautiful creatures on this planet and I thank God every day they are around.

I wondered if the fact that he’s gay makes him less of a man, but as quickly as I thought it, I dismissed it as stupid. One thing I can say is that he’s still more a man than a lot of guys out there.  He loves his kids and takes care of them.  Even though his ex-wife is a real b*tch (I can’t stand her ass), he’ll never disrespect her, especially in front of the kids.  I guess no matter what your sexual preference is, that doesn’t determine how much of a man you are.

I’m secure enough in my manhood that I won’t let the fact that “X” is gay make him any less of a friend.  Some things may change, but he’s still the same knucklehead that used to eat dirtpies as a kid.

It was getting in the wee hours of the morning, so I was getting ready to leave.  We’d been talking a while and had a few rounds, so “X” thought that I should crash on the couch to be safe.  Nothing I hadn’t done a million times before, but this time felt different.

“Just make sure you sleep on your stomach.”

I laughed and shook my head as he walked to his bedroom.  That let me know everything was cool.

Still the same ol’ “X”.

Feel free to comment.

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This post has 602 words. It will take approximately 6 minutes, 1 seconde for reading it.

I remember when I was a young boy, maybe 8 or so, my parents bought me a brand new bike.  It was  red racing bike with all the bells and whistles, plastic chain guard, new rubber handle grips, nice shiny kickstand and everything else you can imagine.

My friend “M” also had a bike but it was a raggedy piece of shit.  I remember when I showed “M” my new bike, instead of being happy for me, he began to rag on it, ” Chain guards are stupid”, “Only babies need a kickstand”, and other stuff like that.  Eventually, I caved into his barbs, took off my chain guard and kickstand…and my nice, new bike looked just as raggedy as his.

“M” wasn’t really a friend…he was a crab.  And you probably have some crabs in your circle too.

Crabs never like to see you do better than them.  They’ll down your successes and they always have a story that tops yours.  If you bench 300 lbs, they bench 400 lbs.  If you got courtside seats to the game, they got courtside seats at center court.  Your new girlfriend was promoted supervisor, their’s is CEO.

I call them crabs because crabs will climb over each other to get out of a barrel. Have you ever watched crabs in a barrel? They won’t help each other at all.  It’s every man for himself.  Once they see a crab climbing out, the other crabs will grab him and pull him back.  Misery loves company.

On the other hand, ants see that the whole can be greater than the sum of the parts.  Ants will work together to climb a hill, creating a “human ladder” and them pulling up the ants at the bottom once most of the ants are at the top.   They will gang up on large foes. As the saying goes, “together, the ants will defeat the elephant.”

You need to try to get as many crabs out of your circle as you can and team with as many ants as possible.

Crabs are dangerous. Calling them downers is an understatement.  Crabs can be in your family or at your job.  You might even be married to one.  Crabs at work will point out when you’re coming back five minutes late from lunch or try to poke holes in the presentation you gave that everyone else is giving you a standing ovation for.  Crabs will crush your dreams under the guise of advice or “just trying to help.”  Bullshit.  They don’t have motivation so they don’t want you accomplish anything either.  They are a sad sort and look for any reason to be negative.

Ants on the other hand are positive.  They don’t fear what others see as insurmountable odds, because they know together you can accomplish much.  If you tell them about an idea, they’ll generally be happy for you and give suggestions.  The word “can’t” is rarely in their vocabulary.

You need to weed out crabs quickly.  Their negativity is infectious.  If you’re having a bad day, crabs will seek you out and talk you into thinking it’s worse than it is.

Now if you have too many crabs in your circle, you need to take a good hard look at yourself.  You don’t see crabs hanging out with ants do you?  No.  Crabs hang with crabs and ants with ants.

I like crabs steamed with melted butter…other than that I stay as far away from them as I can.  You should too.

Feel free to comment.

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This post has 794 words. It will take approximately 7 minutes, 56 secondes for reading it.

When did hustlers get such a bad wrap?

According to Dictionary.com, a hustler is “an enterprising person determined to succeed; go-getter.”

I know I’m working to get back to being a hustler.  So should you.

The “hustle” just means giving your all and giving more than the next guy.  For example, former major league baseball player Pete Rose earned the nickname “Charlie Hustle” after Rose sprinted to first base after drawing a walk.  He sprinted to first base when he didn’t have to.  It was that kind of determination and will that helped him break MLB’s all-time hits record.

Donald Trump is a hustler.  Russell Simmons is definitely a hustler.  He helped create Def Jam and created Phat Farm.  The man even has his own credit card, the Rush Card! His empire is so vast even Kimora Lee and her golddiggin’ ass came at his neck, it didn’t phase him (yeah, I said it, and if you ever listened to any interview she’s done, you’d realize she’s a golddigger too).

My all time favorite hustler is Vincent Kennedy McMahon, better known as Vince McMahon, the CEO, chairman, and majority owner of World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE).  I can see you guys laughing right now about admiring a man who promotes fake wrestling.  Let me tell you why…

He took a largely regional product, broke down the geographic barriers, and made it mainstream.  McMahon took it from the backwoods of America to the New York Stock Exchange (NYSE: WWE).  WWE’s Monday Night Raw is the longest running weekly episodic television show in history.  In 2008, WWE made well over $500 million in revenue.

But the main reason why I like Vince McMahon is that is he is selling you a product he told you was fake.  In order to avoid the costly insurance required for sports teams and franchises, he told the world every last bodyslam was scripted…and you still eat it up.  He still made you want it even when you saw a punch completely miss a guy and he fell down anyway.  If that’s not a hustler, I don’t know what is.

There are rules every hustler needs to follow.  I’ll list a few:

• Believe even when no one else does.  Not everyone is going to be in your corner, so be prepared for doubters and even ridicule…and keep going in spite of it.
• Realize that what you gross is gross.  The best way to sum this up is to quote a lyrics from Lauren Hill’s song “Final Hour”: “It ain’t about what you cop, it’s about what you keep.” Focus on the net gain.  You can make $1,000,000 a year, but if your expenses are $1,000,001, you’re broke.
• Break the process even if it isn’t broken.  Find a new way to do an old task, and you’ll find a new niche to market.
• Use your money wisely and only if you have to.  Many of the wealthy carry mortgages, even if they don’t have to.  Why? Because paying off their mortgage isn’t going to generate as much money as they could if they put their money somewhere else, and the wouldn’t get the tax benefits either.  Do you know what you call a credit card that you use now and pay the balance off in full at the end of the month? An interest free loan.  Smarten up.
• Connect all of your pieces.  An idea connects to a website, a website to a blog, a blog to a merchandising chain.  It all comes together (By the way – look out for ManAmongBoys t-shirts.  Coming soon!!).
• Watch the law.  Laws by definition are “the principles and regulations established in a community by some authority and applicable to its people, whether in the form of legislation or of custom and policies recognized and enforced by judicial decision.”  In short they are the rules, so know them so you don’t break them. They also are society’s view at a given point in time.  They change.  Something that is against the law today might be tomorrow’s opportunity if that law changes.
• Know when to get off the path.  Going down with the ship might be honorable, but it’s not smart.  If an idea isn’t working no matter how much you’ve put into it, let it go and move onto another one.  Don’t let pride get in the way.  If it’s not working, let it go.

Being a hustler is not only a good thing, but it’s the only way to go if you want to get ahead.  Find your hustle and make it work for you.

Feel free to comment.

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This post has 669 words. It will take approximately 6 minutes, 41 secondes for reading it.

I’m reading a report of the text messages sent between Sahel Kazemi and Steve McNair (very sad case) as a part of the murder-suicide on July 4. First I want to say that my heart has and still does go out to the McNair’s wife and sons.  That’s a tragic case for anyone.

But in part, McNair himself is to blame for this.  He did what a lot of guys do and treated the his “side piece” like his one and only lady.

(Note: Fellas, let me say that I don’t condone cheating.  Get the “sowing your wild oats” out of your system before you get married.  Go out, do it big, and do whatever gets you up.  But once you’re married, be true to your wife and your marriage…but if you’re going to cheat, do it the right way, or dammit, don’t do it.  You’re messing it up for everyone else by giving side pieces preferred status.)

I’m not saying she should have killed him, but he definitely didn’t help himself in the situation. Whether his wife knew about it or not (how could she NOT know??), he messed up by not being honest about Kazemi’s status with him.

Supposedly, Kazemi was under the impression that McNair was getting a divorce.  Don’t tell the side action that unless you’re really planning to and if you intend on making the side piece your wife in the future.  If neither of those apply, it’s not her business how your relationship is going.  She has a choice to make, play along or walk away.

McNair was seen taking vacations with Kazemi.  What kind of crap is that?  You do not take the side action on expensive vacations.  You save those for the wife or girlfriend.  You do not boldly put your fake relationship on display for the world to see.  Keep that as discreet.  It’s a very small world and you never know who is looking and who knows who.

Also, McNair bought a black Escalade for her that was registered in both of their names.  Huh? What part of the game is that?   I don’t understand.  You do not buy the woman on the side a car! Never! It’s not like he paid an electric bill or something.  He bought a car.  If you want to give her money to fill the tank because she’s driving a distance to meet you, that’s ok, but buying her an expensive gift like that definitely sends the wrong signals.

And you definitely don’t give the side piece a key to your place.  McNair had a separate condo so it obvious he was either separated from his wife or kept it as a little bachelor pad.  Why give Kazemi a key?  When you’re not at your place, the side piece definitely shouldn’t be.  Better yet, get a cheap hotel or use a friend’s place if you can.  Either way, giving the side piece full time access to your living quarters is a very bad idea.

Most of all, be honest.  Be honest to the side piece and be honest to yourself about what this is and what this isn’t…

“Look, you know I’m married/in a relationship, but I really like your company.  If you’re comfortable with this, we can enjoy each other while we can. If you’re not comfortable with that, I understand.  I know that’s a decision you have to make so I won’t pressure you.”

Damn, how hard is that?  Be upfront and honest about it.  If she doesn’t want that, fine, you both move on and eventually, you’ll find someone that is.  Hell, she may be in the same situation you’re in.

Be honest, and most of all, keep the side piece on the side.  Damn, do I have to teach you guys everything…

Feel free to comment.

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This post has 498 words. It will take approximately 4 minutes, 58 secondes for reading it.

I was in the gym and overheard a conversation between two guys about text messaging.  The friend of one guy got was texting a young lady about the night they had and how enjoyed their bedroom romp.  The only problem was that his wife picked up his phone and read the text message…and you can guess how things went from there.

That got me to thinking about text messaging.  We like it because it’s convenient and clear.  You can watch a TV show and text a message at the same time.  You can text a message while on the go.  It’s a written account of a conversation.

So you’d better be careful of what you text.

A lot of times people say things they don’t really mean in an argument.  I’m sure you’ve yelled and blessed someone out over the phone.  People do the same thing while texting.  Enraged by the argument or actual stupidity, people will send lots of little forget-me-nots like “kiss my ass” and “go f*** yourself.”  I’ve been guilty of sending some myself.

I started think about what I was sending before I text during a  text “conversation” with my ex-wife.  More like a war of words.  I admit I said some pretty nasty things.  Then she pulls a “remember when you said” this and I denied it.  Then she forwarded the message I’d sent, and yep, I said it.

Here is the problem with text messaging.  IT’S WRITTEN.  It can be saved…and used against you later on in more than just an “I told you so.”  That goes for text messaging, instant messaging, and Twitter too.

Imaging going to court and you’re getting divorced and your soon-to-be-ex pulls some “verbal abuse” and “emotional distress” crap and starts crying and playing up to the judge.  You deny that you were verbally abusing and accusing her of  being dramatic and trying to drum up sympathy.

Then, she smirks and says, “Your Honor, I’d like to show you these text messages he sent me…”

Whoa! Weren’t ready for that were you? You probably didn’t mean 90% of the things you said.  You were angry and sent that in the heat of the moment.  But it’s come back to bite you in the ass, big time.

Technology has brought us a whole new world of communication, but with that new world comes new risk and new responsibility.  Review a text message just like you would a work email before you send it.  Check the recipients and review the words and context of the message.  Don’t text in anger; put your Blackberry down and walk away. Come back later when you have a clear head and express your thoughts in a calm, clear manner.

Or else she could save them and use them against you.  The next text you’ll get from her is “LMFAO at u…:-)”

Feel free to comment.

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