congratulations

i will try to make my point as quickly and succinctly as possible, because there are many, many tangents off on which i can go. today i got one of those messages that no guy wants to get. 'twas my ex-girlfriend referred to here as "Peach", e-mailing to tell me that the reason she hasn't been available much is not just 'cause she was working a lot as she said, but because she's been dating someone new. now, given we've been apart for well over a year now. but no man, and i mean no man wants to hear about their ex dating somebody new. i mean, that is, unless they were married and it means they don't have to pay alimony anymore, but this is not the case.

Wisdom from Living Single's Khadijah on why men are obsessed with their ex's: "Synclaire, it's basic male psychology. When a man sees an ex-girlfriend, he can't believe she's still breathing--and forming complete sentences. How does she do it? He must know."

so lemme get a grip on reality real quick. facts are: (1) we broke up many moons ago. (2) i did the breaking up. (3) she's a great girl and deserves somebody who can get with her. (4) this doesn't mean i'm left behind 'cause nothing i was doing before was dependent on her and nothing happening in the future is either. (5) i'm where i want to be and i'm reminding myself right now that i have no regrets about the breakup. (6) i will come into the meaningful God-ordained relationship that i want to in God's timing and until then, i will continue doing exactly what i have been doing... trying to be more like him and not trippin' out in the meantime.

any questions? none? ok. thank you for listening.

train's comin'

i don't know why i have this ominous sense right now. perhaps i'm just on edge, but i get this feeling that i really need to tighten my belt right now. months ago, i was praying and i pace while i pray most of the time. in this instance, i happened to be pacing down the center dividing line of two rooms. i felt the lord saying "get to one side." get to one side? what's that supposed to mean? well, i started seeing trains like in a subway and thought of instances in movies where someone is walking around inside the system where the train tracks run such that if a train comes, at best, you're in for an unpleasant experience clinging flush to the side of the area where the train is coming through only feet away from your face. at worst, you're in for the ultimate unpleasant experience if you're anywhere on the tracks otherwise in the path of the train when it comes through. i believe this is why God was trying to tell me to "get to one side".

i don't know if the figurative train coming is literally trouble intended to mow down anybody straddling the tracks with their house in disorder, or if it's a call of the "wade in the water" variety where i'm supposed to step into the water so that when God "troubles" it, i get my much anticipated blessing. emotionally, i'm betting my nickel on it being trouble. but regardless of what it is, the point is still "get to one side". get it together, streamline, optimize, reduce, compact, whatever you gotta do so that if there's a pop quiz of sorts, you'll be ready. i'll keep you posted if anything validates the feeling.

why it's ok for kanye west to be a pompous hellion

quoth kanye himself, "somebody tell these ni***s who kanye west is?!"

of course, by the title you would have to assume that i think kanye west is a pompous hellion. well actually, no. but i'm certain that there are people who do. he's a shameless self-promoter, his ego is bloated to say the least, and to add insult to injury, he considers himself a servant of God. why, the nerve?! doesn't it bug you when people who think too highly of themselves feel the need to broadcast it to the masses? well, for some reason, his broadcasts don't rub me wrong at all. i rather enjoy him.

i am a self-professed underdog supporter to an almost absolute degree and kanye west is one of my favorites. kanye's indignance is that of someone coming from under the heap, tossing bodies left and right only trying to get what he deserves. so when i see him arriving at the podium with grammy award firmly in hand though sweaty, breathing hard, and a little scuffed up, i cheer. he made it to the gala to sit among the dignified folks anyway. his peers and predecessors went down in obscurity, but he had the drive to end up on top of the heap come hell or high water. so when he says he's the best and commands that "somebody tell these ni***s" who he is, it doesn't bother me at all... because i believe he is the best. in his field, at this point in time? yes.

now, i can't touch on this subject without mentioning the favorite object of my consummate disaffection, one usher raymond iv, more commonly known to me as "bullethead". i have to admit, he is on top right now. but he really grates on me. it's a double standard for sure, but the subtle difference is that i believe kanye west's braggadocio is only on the exterior and well fashioned to function in the entertainment industry where he operates. usher on the other hand seems to be arrogant for the sake of arrogance. he's calmer now, but i still feel like the smug component of his persona doesn't just rest on his surface, but it goes straight down to the bone. and for this cause, i am a hatater and may always be. when i see him, i am compelled from some deep inner place to draw upon my mightiest might and boo a resounding boo loud as the rolling sea in our beloved negro national anthem. a'own like that nyacka!

am i buying into the stereotype of being soft towards the specialty group of "those having overcome adversity"? yes, because i can personally identify with it. why wouldn't it be legitimate though? everyone has overcome some type of adversity. plus, nothing is absolute. i don't like usher, but if i got the chance to meet him, i'd like to. hang out with him? no. not so much. also, i'm predisposed to dig kanye west, but if i found out that i had misjudged his self-confidence as a tip when it's actually an iceberg, i'm not beyond giving him the gas face either. i think i've communicated my view well, but the bottom bottom of the bottom line is that this is my opinion and it may not matter at all.

long as you have the weather

all this week you could hear the ominous murmurings of the people rising from the campus. "it's gonna rain on tuesday. it's gonna rain all week." and sure enough, the weather forecast i checked confirmed that a storm was a-brewin'. brewin' up enough to shower through to saturday. conveniently, i broke my umbrella tryin' to stay dry during the last storm. so even though i was a little pressed for cash, i made a special $15 investment to make sure my freshly retightened locks would stay that way for at least another week. plus, i like this new-fangled umbrella. it's more compact than the other, opens and closes at the push of a button, and has a lifetime warranty.

so i'm carryin' my brand new little toy around just waitin'. half a day goes by and hardly a cloud yet hangs in the sky. to add insult to injury, the sun began breaking through the clouds and the gray started to retreat to every far corner of the sky. what is this all about? why, it didn't rain all day long. today, i got up and the sun was shinin' just as bright as it wanna. 63° outside at 9:30am. now it's 6:30pm at night and there is not a cloud in the sky. i can see the beautiful fading gradient of sunset roll from a bright ocean blue hue to a deep star-spekled celestial indigo. it's lovely and all, but i didn't even get to play with my new toy.

it's all well and good though. i didn't want it to rain no how. i tell you what though. i'm done investin' money based on ominous consensus and official sounding weather forecasts. it doesn't much matter how learned our meteorologists claim they are. the sky is still God's, and i don't mean to threaten a whole industry, but as far as predicting whether the sun will come up or rain will come down... what if -- and i know this is deep -- them jokers just don't know? how 'bout that?

doggone lanky blonde done stole my grammy!

i watched this year's grammy awards ceremony and they were nice, but that's all they were. the three highlights were (1) watching joss stone sing, (2) watching alicia keys sing and (3) watching alicia keys be fine while singing. that was about it for me. i was glad kanye west got grammies. his arrogance somehow doesn't bother me at all. i cheer him on. go figure. i was rather disappointed that tonex didn't nab the grammy for best contemporary soul gospel album. but i am confident that he will have many a chance in the not too distant future. the whole thing prompted me to go to grammy.com and go see who has and hasn't been graced with a golden grammophone.

it was funny looking down the corridors and saying yay for those i supported. but then i recalled one anomaly... eartha. who the heck is eartha? in 2003 i think it was, this independent artist virtually unknown to me pulled a jaw dropping coup, snuck up quietly from behind, made a lunge for it with teeth borne and nabbed the grammy for best contemporary soul gospel album, did a tumble across the stage and then promptly ran out of the auditorium with the police trailing fast behind her. nah. i'm lyin'. she won it fair and square. but how the heck did that happen? and who was this chick anyway? from what i new, her first album barely made any noise at all and i didn't even know she had a sophomore release. so how did this enigmatic tall lanky black chick with the blonde buzz cut and throaty contralto successfully nab this coveted accolade and successfully make off with it? the answer may rest right along side that of what kanye west would have done if he didn't win any grammies this year, for no man knows.

here's where my oddity comes in. it's been two years, right? well, i'm still mad about it. the sophomore album sidebars was on some independent label named a.f.r.t. music that i'd never heard of in my life. i had never seen the album in any store. i felt like i had been cheated myself. this whole passionate sentiment seems strange though because what does that have to do with me? upon reevaluating it, i've decided to change my mind. looka here.

so this whole notion of the grammies is elitist, right? and i tend to eschew anything elitist... that is until i wanna be down, and then? they're ok. shutup. i'm a hypocrite and i know it and i'm clappin' my hands. *clap, clap* the idea is that only the best, brightest, yada yada et cetera are supposed to qualify for this type of kudos. i was actually offended that someone who i did not recognize as fitting, worthy, or suited managed to secure an almost impossible victory.

my whole reaction seems completely out of character for me because i have made a way of life out of rooting for the underdog, scowling when beloved icons like india.arie, aaliyah, amel larrieux, and kenny lattimore were effectively shut out, and cheering when somebody from the middle layer gets hoisted above the smog layer for a moment in the sunshine. i seem to have forgotten my ingenuous prayers and wishes to someday be awarded a grammy myself. had i remembered, i would have celebrated this anomaly as a good one. why be upset when an unknown comes from out of nowhere and bests the likely contenders to set the entire modis operandi on end? need i remind myself that i'm an unknown hailing from nowhere sitting neatly under a pile of likely (as well as heavy) contenders piled high to the sky. it's a wonderful case for faith. i listened to clips of eartha's grammy winning aberration of a sophomore album. and i can't deny that i'm largely unimpressed. that grammy could have been mine!

"it's about frontin' on suckas you went to high school wit. all the people you couldn't get wit. all the people that's put'cha down. stole ya money. stole yo girl... i wasn't always perfect, baby. gina?! i wasn't always the mack! back then, ricky fontaine was the man. pretty ricky what they called him." (c)1993 martin payne on high school reunions.

speaking as a true artist and ignorer of kanye west's overbearing overconfidence, i think my roughly cut and completely underground album was way better than hers. and i'm sure that even her fellow nominees in the category had albums that were better than hers and names that were more well known and videos that were better shot and record companies with more money. doesn't matter. whether there was a clerical error or the competition got disqualified on an isolated technicality, ms. eartha has a grammy and there ain't not a nary thang none of us can do about it. i haven't sold 200 copies of my independent album, but God's word did say that all things are possible through Jesus Christ. so what if one day dispite my rampantly shameful player-hatation in this situation, i actually get nominated for a grammy by some mountain-moving act of God? and then... what if i get it?? we can no longer say it's impossible. whether you believe in Jesus or not, even heathen's can't deny hard facts.

so. i have decided that i am no longer mad at eartha. for if i can't rejoice about a sister of mine getting a major blessing, how is God gonna bless me? shoot. i know she live right here in l.a. if i see her, i'mma hug her and tell her to rock on with her bad enigmatic tall lanky buzz cut blonde-haired throaty contralto-voiced self. can you dig it?

these ordinary days

i'm not so far removed that i can't the remember the last time i was grandly passionate about life. seeing as it was such a marked stretch of green pastures, i remember it vividly. i just can't remember how i got there. these days, i tend to just kinda go about, doing ok, doing alright, not bad, not wonderful. not really praying too hard, not really reading too fervently, not really doing anything full out. it feels a lot like a trailer park looks... not too impressive, but it qualifies as shelter.

Not much for conversation, I still find need to pray. Sometimes I get tired of walking through these ordinary days. If nothing else I get to see you even if we never speak. The harm of words is sometimes we don't quite know what they really mean. I don’t know where, I don’t know how. I don’t know why, but your love can make these things better." - Jars Of Clay, "These Ordinary Days"

it seems to be part of the ebb and flow. not every day is perfect. thank God things are pretty stable. no drama, no big worries. just carrying my load, doing my part, nothing spectacular. i am able to stand this because i know it's only temporary. soon enough there will be some joy, some relief, some elation, some laughter, some entertainment, something interesting coming. but today, not so much.

i don't like to be this way. i prefer days when each is a different entertaining ring of a circus. plenty of colors and merry sounds. i've taken to watching cartoons lately. maybe it's my mind trying to get the stimulating nutrients it needs (normally only found in a box of crayons). it's partially the weather too. these days, all skies are half cloudy if not fully so. it has no really bearing on what goes on, but it's just the environment at this point. not reason to worry. i'll be glad to get back to high times again.

spike lee, don't let me catch you in the street

spike lee will never work in this town again. that is, if i can find a means to buy up everything in hollywood for the sole purpose of being able to tell him a hearty "you're fired. so fired." i juggled my schedule around tonight so i could get my locks retwisted. however, the featured film that my hairdresser homegirl rented to occupy two-hours was she hate me, a pseudo-soft-porn-romp with a plot. i really like kerry washington, but she lost 5 points for starring in this piece of trash. it was one of those films where i wanted to take a shower soon as i got away from the screen. in it, an out of work ex-corporate solves his cash flow problem by farming himself out in a niche market: impregnating lesbian women for $10,000 per conception.

"hated it!" - damon wayans and david alan grier
from their in living color sketch routine "men on film".

ideally, what i should have done was politely excused myself from the room so i wouldn't have been subjected to the bevy of sordid sex scenes and lewd language, but i really wanted to get my hair done and i didn't want to have to do it myself again. so i sat through about an hour and a half of this by reverting to the juvenile practice of covering my eyes with my index fingers while closing my ears with my thumbs. unfortunately, i also reverted to the juvenile practice of peeking anyway and for all of my moral failing for the night, i think i'm gonna call it a wash and start over tomorrow morning as according to the Bible, that's when God's mercies get their daily renewal, right?

whatever the case, spike lee is the worst. everyday. don't let me catch him in the street. amen.

love and candy

as a child, money was a thing with a singular purpose. it existed solely as a means to get me candy. i was pretty easy to please. something from each of the 4 junk food groups (fruit, chocolate, chips, and ice cream) and i had balanced meal. once i found $20 in the grass and the first thing i did was spend it. it didn't occur to me that it may have some other purpose.

conversely, now i am a man. and i still love candy. but i have much more currency and much more sophisticated tastes. ok, so for the nth time, let's take inventory. i've got some smarts, some good looks, some talent, and some wit to worth with. but apparently now, candy alone won't do. so i propose that i and my God-given commodities put our heads together and scratch up a plan to get us all loved. sound good?

"I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field and don't notice it... I just wanna be loved... Yeah, Celie. Everything wanna be loved. Us sing and dance and holler... just tryin' to be loved. Look at them trees. Ever notice how trees do everything to get attention that we do? Except walk... Oh Miss Celie, I feels like sangin'!" - a portion of Shug Avery's dialogue from The Color Purple.

i'm sure that many of things we do, we don't understand, but... beware: cliche coming... i believe we do it all for love. that is, whatever we believe love to actually be. everybody and everything is trying to be noticed, become attractive, become powerful, be in control, be in demand, get ahead of the game, move, shake, advance, and arrive at a destination that says: "yes. i am good, i am deserving, i qualify, and thus i can now be loved." it's almost as if love is like candy, and if you've got money or something else to barter with, then you can acquire it.

"Sometimes is never quite enough / If you're flawless, then you'll win my love / Don't forget to win first place / Don't forget to keep that smile on your face... / Be a good boy / Push a little farther now / That wasn't fast enough / To make us happy / We'll love you / Just the way you are / if you're perfect." - Alanis Morrisette, "Perfect"

once while in prayer, the Lord told me that a lot of the problems i was having stemmed from "a lack of love in my life". i thought that odd because i was surrounded by friends and family. i was happy and, i felt, stable. well nonetheless, God doesn't speak in vain. the more i learn about love, the more i find out how much i didn't know. i had a lot of the concept wrong. i had love defined as "like" or "enjoy" or some other mere feeling. it's more substantial than that. in 1 corinthians 13, it's described as enduring, unselfish, humble, tempered, empathetic, just & upright, trusting, optimistic, and eternal among other things. that's the "God kind of love".

love is not portioned out only to "them that's got" and denied to everyone else because by that course, i would never make the cut. i still don't feel worthy, but God loves us all without a prequisite or other cover charge and implores us to love each other that way. He said he is "no respecter of persons" and that he "so loved the whole world that He gave His only begotten Son". He didn't say He loved a portion of the world and the rest would have to contend for his divine leftovers.

however, if that was the case, it would make sense that we act as if only the best will be awarded the prize and scuffed runners-up who are lacking in table manners will be condemned to lonely perdition just because they were dealt bad hands. we were all dealt bad hands, but if we -- and when i say we, i primarily mean i -- could just understand that we already have all the love we will ever need freely given to us, we might stop working so hard to get it. sangin', dancin', hollerin', just tryna be loved.

further reading: "to have to prove and do and be", an entry from july 2004 that remained unfinished until today.