Why Marriage?

It’s a rare time in life when there are so many uncertainties. 

Things are changing fast. Managing all the moving parts is almost
well…unmanageable. Honestly the fact that it still is manageable,
IS a testiment to spirit and drive. No one can make a human do
something they don’t want. You may need to eat but you can
choose to starve yourself. 

Right now planning is gonzo. I’ve thrown many events in the
past and this is just as challenging even more for the bells and
whistles. Vendors, venues, invites…its enough to make me wonder,
“Why the hell didn’t I go to Vegas?” I could hit the tables hard and
broke even.

Someone asked me why would I want to put myself through this
process. I really didn’t know how to answer that.  Then I realized,
I wanted it to be this way. I like a challenge. Nothing achieved is
as sweet as getting there after tough trials. And nothing is more
challenging than two humans, free of will, thinking as one. Or
trying to.  Lets be real…that’s some work for your ass.  

I still believe a black family can thrive, it just takes effort. If I’m
forced to believe that being what I am predetermines my failure,
I’m something less than human. Headstrong and critical but
never passive, the goal is to not give into stereotype. Call me a
dreamer, a fool, a person that doesn’t know shit about shit.  One
thing is do know is risky challenges reap high reward. Life is too
short to wait an play it by hearsay.

The way I see it, if we can make it through catty friends and 
relatives, small technical crises, weather, and travel we can make
it through anything.  Bring it on. 

The Safe

The day is getting closer and I’m listening to people who are genuinely happy as opposed
to the people looking for mindless, polite banter to pass the time. “Safe” is an adjective/noun
describing what I learned from talking to people in my outer circle. Why they are there?
How did they get there? Why are they close enough to me? As I’m turning the bend,
creeping on the stretch, the reasons why I took the first step come more into play. 

http://dictionary.reference.com

“Safe” adj. Def. 1-5. Dictionary.reference.com, n.d. Web. 1 March 2013

1)secure from liability to harm, injury, danger, or risk: a safe place.

To me, this means secure the bubble. If you don’t have one, you are sponging
up all sorts of things that can influence your bound. So get one.  

2)free from hurt, injury, danger, or risk: to arrive safe and sound.

Words often left for snark or negative criticism will be used to describe your
pending marriage. You will ask yourself, ” Why did he/she say that?”. All
I can say is Fuck ‘Em! Pardon my crass reaction but nobody knows about
your relationship but you and your partner. It is important to have each
others back when opinions and curious inquiries are peppered on you.
Protect the bubble. 

3)involving little or no risk of mishap, error, etc.: a safe estimate.

You never entertain or project behavior the would injure or cause
physical damage to each other. Having each others back in threatening
situations will be key in case an unfortunate situation arises. Not be Mr.
Doom and Gloom but shit happens.  

4)dependable or trustworthy: a safe guide.

This is the core values you both have and the confidence your
will partner will withhold them in you absence. This is important
when a family is new. You must be somewhat on the same page. 

5)careful to avoid danger or controversy: a safe player; a safe play.

Here’s a tricky one. The infiltration. Confidence is a biatch. It’s catnip.
To maintain the happy you must leave the hoes alone!!!  If you are
about it know the ledge.  People will talk. Hate even. It’s important to
rise above that. 

Reflecting back on this time leading to the day will surely reveal
truths about relationships I’ve held with people as well as the ones
I will hold on to in the future. Some of whom are on notice. 

Caution To The Wind

There comes that time as a man you have to fully come to grips with the
whole notion of being married. As I sit here letting the third gin and tonic
take me to happy land, I am content to be in a room full of  grown women
enjoying each others company. Truly ignoring me. See it’s the simple things
that make me happy and tonight it is the comfort of not being out on New
Years wondering if it is safe to get drunk. I am listening to their convo but
most importantly I’m thinking of the coming year of planning and life changes.
This is really happening. Man this is a feeling of joy, dread and caution. “Jodretion”,
if you will. It’s not a terrible feeling though it is enlightening. It’s like the feeling
you had when you left eighth grade knowing high school is on the horizon. A
new stage in life. Am I willing to accept it? I mean. I’m a guy. This means devoting
myself to ONE woman for the rest of my life. Every man’s nightmare. Kinda funny
though. I really did not like being single, even in the whoring stage. I think every
man wants to know if they will be happy after the wedding. (I passed out before
writing this next part.)

I remember that night and those last thoughts before I didn’t have the motor
skills to finish. Soon after I slipped my phone in my pocket I heard them talking
about how drunk I was. Sitting there eyes closed, smile on my face. Someone
wanted to take an infamous phone pic. Capture the drunk. Then I heard my
future wife say, “please don’t”. I felt her presence as she walked near me to
take my glasses off. Right there I knew trust is key. I was happy I chose who
I did. And I’m ready to take the leap with her. 

Ps -I bet you girls didn’t think i was listening huh. 

The Engagement Party

So this is my first go at this and I’m as green as a city kid on a ranch.
I didn’t know that there were so many different do’s and don’ts with not just
the wedding, but with the time leading up to the wedding. The engagement
party was my first taste of these trials. My forever girlfriend (I hate saying
fiancé ) and I wanted to celebrate our pending union with our friends and
family. Thing is my age group is still into the club/bar scene and the precarious
task of balancing my friends and close family was more challenging than I
thought. We knew our folks wouldn’t be comfortable at a crowded bar or
lounge. So in the end we decided to split the engagement party into two.
One for the younger crowd and the next one more family oriented.

As she did her thing with the first venue all I saw was dollar signs. “Dear God,”
I thought ” We didn’t even get to the wedding planning.” I was already exhausted.
I soon realized as much as your woman can say weddings and other stuff is not that
important it goes out the window when it becomes hers. Oh and forgot one detail. My
woman is an event planner by trade. (Holy Pewter Linen Batman) The level of
questions and detail required to pull off this event had the party goers ready, salivating
even for the main event. An event we are committed to make memorable. 

All in all, both parties came off without a hitch. First one in a bar lounge second
at a state park. While I was earlier bitching about the dough spent on the events,
we pulled it off and still maximized the dollar. The experience made me realize how
important communication is in our relationship. Sounds corny but it helped to limit
our expectations and compromise on alternate ways of  achieving a goal. It also
showed me how to not get caught up with the little things and enjoy the moments
leading up to the event. Because there is less than 150 days till the date. Yeah
Team Stress !!  

Broom Jumper

Yup, the kid is taking himself off the market. No more Destro. (Manifesto inside joke)
No more clubs with more rub than a strip club. I’m settling down. It’s not been that
hard being I’ve been in serious relationships in the past few years. What’s hard is
planning this celebration.

What has become painfully obvious is that Black matrimony has very limited resources.
Call it the haze of new beginnings, but I actually was stoked to go out and do research
on how to do this day my way. I went to my closest bookstore to search out books, mags,
manuals on the subject and found nothing to no avail.  I realized there is not much of a
market for brothers who genuinely embrace this milestone. Damn. You mean I gotta go

it alone?!?!? Hell yes. Thus, it leads me to this….I’m letting you bums into the mind of a

black man about to get hitched. The truth. And yes ladies,  my betrothed is cool with me
writing this. So stay tuned.

Black Love?

The new year brought in a new birth for the premier couple Jay-Z and Beyonce. With
it, as what has become the norm, came commentary from every person with posable
thumbs. Some positive, but mostly negative. It ranged from their use of the maternity
ward to the name of their child. To me it’s understood that if you are a celebrity your
life is pretty much public fodder. Given the circumstances and after reading the
commentary on their new family member. I think the floor rental was justified.

I’ve heard so many rumors and nasty comments against them they might as well
had the baby on the moon. But then there’d be a rumor of the baby being a Martian. 

What happened to black love? We were once proud of it. It is the elusive Bigfoot
when seen we point and call it a monster.

The bond between woman and man and  raising a family has become a rarity.
So much so that we don’t know how to react when a black couple that really like each
other are present. Behind their back we use words like downlow or whipped. We bring
up the couples past relationships. We actively sabotage black love.  I guess my question

is where is the love for the love of others? Do you hate yourself that much that when
two people love each other you must spit fire at them? Maybe a lil more Marvin Gaye

and less Trey Songs in the approach to love. The aggressive pursuit of booty and nothing
more attitude shows that their is a part of human nature that we are afraid to tap
Love is vulnerability. And vulnerability is eaten alive in our communities. We have cannibalized
the love we give not realizing that there will be none left.

Black love…  dying of starvation. 

Do You

I am an outcast. A stuck up do gooder. I’ve never been a “player”. I never held
down a block. I never felt a need go to the local watering hole and buy the latest
liquor concoction. ( Shouts out to the Diddy and the Coco Loso). Yet I am still able
to function as a member of the hood. Desperately trying to help a community that
at times doesn’t want to change. Funny still . I am a firm believer of the “do you”
concept. Its a free country, do what you wanna. Only you as an individual can take
the brunt of the consequences of your actions.

Still, i can’t help but feel that full understanding of the outcomes are not seen. 
Maybe just not heeded.  Why would you want to go to jail or be eternally
linked to a less than desirable person through the bond of wedlock? Are you
just waiting for death? It’s sad when coming up you feel ashamed or not part
of the crowd when your parents are STILL together.

Who plants these ideas? Why are they so widely accepted?

Why are these views seen in my community as a rite of passage?

Why is this status quo?

Here’s a few things you should ask yourself if you are a “victim of the hood”.

1-Why is there so much garbage in the hood? Is it that the sanitation dept
forgets your block or is it because you and a pal discarded a half eaten
carton of Chinese food on the street?

2-Why do so many Koreans and Arabs have corner store biz? Is it because
they won’t give you a small biz loan or is your ego too big to serve your
community as a lowly store owner?

3-Does seeding up chicks make you a man? Everyone loves sex but how
many times do we have to hear the condom broke? Really? REALLY?

4-Are you getting blooded up and raising blood drops for the sake of your
peers or is it for the benefit of your child? If it is for protection please let
me know from who? It will not be from themselves.

5- ( This is a doozey ) Why do you blame the white man for all your
problems? Why are you reactive instead of proactive if his knee is on
your neck? Don’t talk about it be about it.

If you can’t answer these questions without getting upset or ready to
fight congratulations you are going to jail for selling your baby mama
drugs while drunk off of Coco Loso. The trifecta! If you genuinely want
change it starts with one not following the Status Quo. Man up! Do you!


— Posted Live From The Outside World

Too Good For The Hood?

When did it all go wrong?

Remember when we celebrated when someone from our fuct up
neighborhood made it big? “That’s my cousin”, “he used to buy honeybuns
in this bodega!’ I often wonder what stories would arise about me if I went
on to greatness. “remember when dat ni**a Stress found out his girl was
cheating on Labor Day by seeing her at the block party hugged up?”
“Stress? Dat ni**a lived here?”

It’ll probably go as such. But in an effort not to make light of a sickening
trend I would like to focus on why people do this. Why do we tear people
down after they “make it”? Are you that self-lothing that you would project
your misery in the form of malicious rumors? I remember hearing stories
of Swizz Beats getting robbed when he came back to the hood. (Yeah K Swiss.
I’m from yo’ hood.) I often wonder how authentic these rumors are. ‘Cause
not for nothing some dudes just like to see you doing as bad as them.

Hood people, how ‘bout we support those that got out, stop acting like they
are the great white knight and get up get out and get something. It amazes
me how many “hustlers” need a hand. Really? Thought you extra wavey, why
you asking for help? Seems to me that these dudes lack the adaptibilty of the
world hustle and they can’t seem to get off the block.This is another thing that
keeps hood folk in the hood. They feel guilt for leaving the others behind. They
are told that they are bougie if they don’t come back. Why the fuck should you?!?!

And why should you keep it real? Shit. Real life goes on in the hood without
you when you are not around, does it start when you are there? GTFOOHWTBS!
Listen hood folk thinking of leaving. Leave! Don’t look back. Don’t feel guilty.
You made it to a better place to have better life choices. Let the mystical hood
misery mentality influence those whoever subscribe to that self loathing lifestyle.

My boys are gonna say dudes ain’t gonna like me for this one. I say good. Stop
fucking with me. Bad energy is not needed in my cypher. Cause I’m focused on
getting the fuck outta here. Now excuse me while I chase away the bikers
fucking up my mamas roses.

— Posted Live From The Outside World

Responsibility

I feel I’m doing my part in society by expressing the views of those
who can’t speak through this medium. Even when writing these tirade
laden posts I have to think how my words will effect my reader. Yes I
want to get my point across but I also don’t want to mislead the reader
into something false and unfair. Ok, I can see how you can say, “Fam it’s
a blog. This shit is all opinion.” I will agree. But I’d like to think my opinions
are based on some logical, well-thought out base theory. Mostly common
sense.

Due to the speed of which information is spread these days I don’t think
people understand the power they possess. Today you can tell every person
you have met in your life to either eat pizza or fuck off. 15 years ago that
would be  a lot of phone calls. So how do you go about conducting yourself
over these self intrusive networks? Easy. As my college communication
professor would tell me cut the electronic umbilical cord. Man up bitches
and don’t answer.

This applies to all forms of communication especially social networking
sites.  If you must. Click the like button. Show reserve on commenting
on Sherry’s mothers table cloth dress. Hard to do isn’t it? I know. I’m
the worst offender. I comment on everything from bad wigs to tooth decay.
So I saw the difference when I stopped participating. Less comment on my
page trickling down to less interaction and desire to contact me about nothing.
This rule can work on phones to. Don’t answer. I will stare at a ringing cell.
Why do I want to be so accessable? Am I legally obligated to be on the other
side of the line when someone calls? I laugh when someone tells me they
called and I didn’t answer. Fuck yeah! So I’m supposed to stop laying dudes
down in COD2 so you can blab about nothing? You, my friend are impeding
on my rights. My favorite is ” I texted you. Why didn’t you respond?”.
Really? The fuck I look like a Justin Beiber Twitter following preteen?

Dare to be different and stop sucking on the “look at me” teet of social networking.

Train Etiquette

Living in New York you have to succumb to a few necessary evils. One
such Pandora’s box is the NYC Subway system. A serious rider for 20 + years,
I’ve seen it all. It still bugs me to this day people do shit on the train, which in
their mind, they consider acceptable. Here are a few scenarios which I have
actually seen and experienced that will help you think about your actions.

Grooming: NY is nonstop hustle. So I can understand an occasional lotion
break or eye boogie check. Once you start applying makeup such as mascara
and compound you start to head into that gray area. Shaving, WTF? Hair combing,
not near me. Spare me your cooka bugs. Nail filing and clipping, do that shit at
home for real. Bottom line if you can leave parts of your body behind DON’T DO IT!

Seat etiquette: Some NYers lack common sense. Case and point,
pregnant women and the crowded train. Don’t be a dick, give her your seat. In
defense of some of you guys be wary of the chicks with big guts. Their lack of
Pilates training will have you giving up your well earned seat.

Next, the fat guy and the three seater. If a fat dude is on one end and
someone is one the other end, do not squeeze in between ‘em. Stand.
You are just making a slightly uncomfortable ride unbearable for three people.
Furthermore, if your ass is the size of two asses do NOT squeeze your ass into
the space of one butt cheek. PLEASE!  It kills me how some woman envision
themselves as slim assed. They sit on you with a butt cheek on your hip then
look at you like YOU sat there. Bitch get your fat ass up. You know better.

Lastly my pet peeve. I unfortunately have broad shoulders so sitting next to
me on a crowed train sucks. I try to sit next to the end so I only have to deal
with one person. But I still get the asshole who thinks you can miraculously
shrink your self. So they squeeze then end up laying on you. I always elbow
shove to the front and lean forward to let them know I’m no fuckin’ mattress.

Drug use: Ho Lee Shit. Let me tell you I’ve seen everything from line snorting
to drinking binges. I don’t care what you do. Just don’t fuck with me or my
nostrils.

Smells: Most people wash there ass. But some don’t. Please wash. Sour milk
breathon the guy next to you is not pleasant but understandable. But if you
stink to high hell do not get on. That’s all. Gum & deodorant. Do us and
yourself a favor.

As you can see I could go on but I think this will be a growing experience.
‘Till next time.