Just incase you haven't switched over.....
http://negroontheveranda.wordpress.com/2011/12/24/i-remember-santa-and-i-still-believe/

Judgment: My spiritual gift; or the 10 commandment of holiday cheer.

http://negroontheveranda.wordpress.com/2011/11/26/judgment-my-spiritual-gift-or-the-10-commandments-of-holiday-cheer/

The tale of the junior league chirstmas card lady

http://negroontheveranda.wordpress.com/2011/11/25/the-tale-of-the-junior-league-christmas-card-lady/

Happy Thanksgiving Charlie Brown

I had a conversation with a friend the other day about why, at thirty, I still love the holidays.  This person unintentionally decided they wanted to point out every reason why I should hate the holidays, and view its approach with all the dread and fear I could muster. The conversation, albeit one sided, went something like this:

       “Isiah why in the name of God do you love the holidays?  I mean seriously, you are single, the majority of your friends are married, you don’t have children, your car is always breaking down, you battle with the your weight, you go to these functions where you are the only single guy and everyone tries to marry you off to these losers.”  

My response was simple: “Well… Damn.” I thought to myself… Maybe he is right…maybe I should hate the holidays. Maybe I should find a fallout shelter and stay there till MLK day!! Then again… Valentine ’s Day would then be right around the corner, and then where will I go. Obviously my life is a mess, and JESUS just needs to TAKE THE WHEEL!  He kept going on for a minute or two, and I had the desire to tell him where he could get off; but then I realized that this conversation wasn’t about me. We were both 30, single, no prospects in the near future, owned old(er) cars, needed to lose about 50-60 pounds ( yea I said it, be grateful I don’t name you),  with the season of love and weight gain staring us down   like a redneck dad’s shotgun when he learned his little daughter has been knocked up.   I interrupted his diatribe and said, “ I don’t feel that way, I don’t know why I don’t… but I don’t… and I will have an answer as to why tomorrow on my blog.”

So here you go, the answer to happiness during the holidays: Charlie Brown. There is a lot you can learn from Charlie Brown.  For years, I have read the comic strip, watched the movies, and cooked to the holiday specials. It doesn’t matter if it is the Great Pumpkin, The Easter Bunny, or as is the case this Thursday It’s Thanksgiving Charlie Brown (on ABC @ 8:00pm).  The young man locked forever in 3^rd grade with all the insecurities, questions and mishaps speak eternally the human experience.  It gives us some rules to live by, and I want to share my rules with you.

1.       Sometimes you are not going to kick that ball, doesn’t mean you stop trying.  One day you will. Persistence always wins.

2.       When in doubt… talk it out.  Whether it is to a dog, bird, or a guy with an unhealthy attachment to a blanket.  Verbalizing helps.

3.       Listen.  Even Lucy took time out of her life to help others.

4.       Have friends that care.  They might make an unintentional misstep, but it is ok.  ALL will work out in the end.

5.       It’s what you think of yourself that matters most.  

To my friend-

So yes, I go on these crazy dates… because even though I know “Lucy” is going to yank that ball from under me …one time she may not . One time I might kick the ball straight to the little red haired girl and then it’s on me.   I have friends that care, (even you in your odd way), we listen to each other, and we help each other through tough times. You would be surprised to know how rare that is.  Someone once told me that if you have 5 good friends in your lifetime you were doing well and better than most.  And as for what I think of myself… I think that I am loved more than I am capable of loving, given more than what I am capable of returning, and blessed more than I deserve.  You asked me, “Why in the name of God do you love the holidays?”  Buddy, I think you answered your own question.  Is there a sound sweeter to the ear, or a thought more fulfilling, or a reason to be more grateful than the simple name of God? I love the holidays because it serves as my reminder to give thanks to God for all the things I have, and I forget about other things I might want.  I share that reminder with you, and to others that might be in the same place and I say with love “Happy Thanksgiving Charlie Brown ;o).”

Dennis the Menace and the Mutilated Shrub

Someone recently told me that they just discovered my wordpress... SERIOUSLY... you are missing some good stuff... but... here you go the most recent one. Go and check my other page out and like it also check out my facebook page and like it to keep updated... Grandmother! there's a negro on the veranda... Like the page!!! http://negroontheveranda.wordpress.com/2011/09/28/dennis-the-menace-and-the-mutilated-shrub/

Ok,  I know  a few of my readers  are too young to remember a comic strip, a cartoon, or a television show  called Dennis the Menace ( I saw it in syndication during Nick at Night in the 80s and 90s).  It was about a neighborhood boy that always managed to find ways to get himself into trouble, most often than not doing something to and or with his neighbor “MR. WILLLLLLLLLSOOOON!”  I added the extra letters for those of you who remember that iconic call from the neighborhood boy.  Dennis of course was a child whose curisoty and his well-meaning attempts to help always found him in some kind of shinangin.   Well Dennis the Meance has grown up, is 14, and my new neighbor.

In the past six months, my street in the neighborhood has changed.  Military families have moved in and out, I have seen retirement parties culminate by putting the house for sale and moving to Florida, and a new population of youth and vitality is forcing everyone to keep themselves alert.  In a way, it is very similar to the way I grew up on base.  However, I digress. 

My new neighbor, for the purposes of this story we will call Dennis, asked me to mow my yard ( how classically American), and because I had other things to do I said yes and gave him 20 bucks. Harmless enough, right?  Well imagine my surprise when I came home from work to see one of my hedges “trimmed” beyond recognition.   At first, I thought one of my former students was trying to play some kind of joke on me, but then Dennis came out and fessed up.  He was trying to make the 20 dollars’ worth it, by trimming my hedge.  The only problem with that was the shrub was bigger than him, and he never trimmed a shrub before.   I should have known it wasn’t done by vandals when I looked around and saw that, for the most part, the mutilated remains of the shrub lied at the curb in a reasonably neat pile ready for pickup. I had to ask him, “what… the…hell” and his response to my question was “Please don’t tell my dad.  He’ll think I’m a dumbass.”   I did the only thing I could do: Laugh and laugh hard. After I finished laughing I told him to pick up the poor limbs of the bush that lay scattered around my yard before church on Wednesday and sent him back to his home.

I told this story to some friends and they wondered why I wasn’t mad.  As I reflect on the situation it is simple: Dennis has a work ethic and a value for a dollar bill. Not only that, when it was time to fess up he owned his mistakes. Dennis didn’t lie or try to blame it on somebody else;  he came out there by himself to accept whatever the punishment maybe like a man.  I got to see that true American Values are still being taught and passed on.  Work Hard, Be truthful, and stay honest, and that in this climate and generation was very refreshing. 

So to Dennis:  You’re a good kid.  Honest and hardworking.  So, as long as your father doesn’t ask me what happened to the bush, I won’t tell him. But remember the next time you want to go ham on some shrubs go into the backyard!  Have at it: if you go missing we will send someone in after you.  And I am sure this is only the first of many tales to come. After all, you are a red-blooded American boy. We’ve all been there.  Welcome to the Neighborhood.

MORE NEGRO!!! LAUNCH!!

Hey you guys!!! This past week has been ridiculous ( in a good way) I had 3 different people ask me about my blog wanting to link it to different places... etc.  So in order to aid that new market and start the Veranda RENAISSANCE! I have started a wordpress site!!!  So here is the deal

1. The wordpress site has fashion, food, faith, and general negro-ness
2. I am still keeping the blog spot for my "unedited" rants ( think of this site like the unreleased DVD edition)
3. You will get more in the About me section.
4. I am in the working with certain people to try to get discounts for my readers for certain online retailers (wordpress).
5.  JOIN BOTH SITES so you don't miss anything!!!! After a certain number I am going to close this one off to my original readers. There is something special about being on the ground floor!!

And here you go!!! http://negroontheveranda.wordpress.com/

The Three Dresses

(Names have been changed to protect the delightful)

So I love southern ladies, to be more specific mature southern ladies who reminisce fondly on yesteryear.  I have been privileged that in the last three places I’ve lived there has been such a gem as a neighbor.   What is most delightful is that they are all from different parts of south and bring their own southern flare to their stories. There was Ms. Florence from Baton Rouge who had a delightful Louisiana accent and was a former Debutante. She lived in my apartment complex, and gave me the most lovely house warming gift when I moved…Waterford…I used to watch her cat while when she went back home to visit her grandchildren. Then there was Ms. Mary Kathryn who actually lived down the street from me. She was runner up for Miss Alabama in 19??. Then there was Ms. Beverly who was  a former singer here in Georgia , who introduced herself to me during squirrel-gate ( she thought I was killing the squirrels with some poison she “saw” me lay down… It was grass fertilizer-God bless her heart).  What I find funny is that none of these delightfully witty ladies would ever allow me to call them Mrs. (insert last name)… they told me that was their mother-in-law and they were dead and they no desire to neither visit them nor take their title in the near future. What else can you say to that but yes ma’am, even though they were all in the “icing years” as a my grandmother would say ( three scores plus ten… the rest is just icing).  Which is weird because in the African American culture, and some places in the south, it’s  Mr.  and Mrs.  if they are 5 minutes older than you.  But I digress.

A few months back it was prom season, and I was out mowing my grass when my neighbor, the singer came out for a conversation (the squirrels were still absent).   “It is prom season!” she acclaimed, and as a school teacher I was well aware of Prom season and knew it primarily because it fell on my birthday weekend and I had to chaperone (TRAGIC).  Since obviously, to her horror, I did not show the appropriate amount of excitement she then told me the story of the three dresses. It goes something like this:

Now Isaiah, I know you are a man but EVERYONE knows that there are three important dresses in every pretty southern ladies life.  You need to know this incase you have daughters.

Oh?  I said knowing that this was going to lead into one of the stories that I love so much. “But what if they are less than attractive?”

Less than attractive? (Gasp of Horror)  Well in reference to a southern lady there is no such thing! Why even saying pretty southern lady is redundant, we only say it to distinguish the Yankee transplants without being rude.  But as I was saying, there are three important dresses and they actually build on one another. There is your prom dress your first real gown, its important because it is the first time a southern lady should look like a real princess ( if you discount all religious occasions).  Then you build on that with your debutante dress.  The key is to be stunning and not have it look like a wedding dress… because people will talk, and then the only other time you are in a white dress: You’re wedding.  Where if you don’t look like royalty you have failed. 

I couldn’t help but bait her some more, “well what if they don’t get married?”

 In that case, let’s just hope the first two dresses were really pretty.  Well enjoy your day.

With that she went to check her mail, and walked back inside her home.  I promptly went inside died laughing then I made a mint julep.

Man Pretty: A concept

So my “twin”, constructively critical (check out her blog she is awesome), has created a phrase that I feel we should all adopt: “Man pretty.”  What is man pretty, I hear you ask?   Well simply stated: it is the male species uncanny ability to look past all the personal faults of a woman and see their attractiveness. It should be noted that this observation must be done while completely sober as to not be confused with “beer goggles” Take the following example into consideration:

Man: Hey, she is attractive… she is my type. (Because every attractive woman is my type and we are destined for coital bliss)

Woman: You’ve got to be kidding… seriously… she’s a bitch.  It is important to note that the woman does NOT hide her feelings on the subject.

Man: No… she can’t be that bad I mean look at her long hair, nice legs… she looks exotic (Bliss Bliss Bliss Bliss Bliss)

Woman: Ummm… I think your crazy… let’s ask  Joe… Hey Joe… what do you think about that girl over there.

Man II:  She’s hot …( I wonder what my chances are…)

Woman:  SERIOUSLY!! Ugh… Man pretty.

I could easily come up with some BS reason as to why she is attractive, and tie it into some made up sociological crap that my expertise ( given to me by TLC and the Discovery Channel ) makes me in no way credentialed to say.  However, at this point in the game its best to keep on our marry way until the blinders fall off… because when they fall off… they fall of bad.

For instance, a few years back there was this young lady I found  attractive… she may not have been the brightest star, the sharpest crayon, the nicest person, and her heart was probably  holy for as many times it should’ve been blessed … but to me and another male friend of mine she was kind of hot.  I don’t know …there was something other worldly about her.  I made the mistake of telling this to my twin and I got the “man pretty” response.  Later on that year the blinders fell off. To my horror- I discovered what made her look other worldly! It  was the fact like she looked like an alien rat terrier who got in a fight with a bush pig… and lost… tragically. The only difference was this time I knew her as a person. Was she secretly a shape shifter or did her personality affect her looks? My primal desires, and my boyhood love of the X-men makes me want to think shape shifter, because surely personality can not affect the way you see someone that drastically … and Mystique was one hot momma ( I just realized how dorky of an X-men reference that was…please don’t judge me).   

Apparently women, so says my twin, do not suffer from such an affliction. They see someones  personality and make an accurate judgment call… hence “Man Pretty.” However all is not lost,  like Pokémon “Man pretty” can evolve into it’s next state of being: Sense Pretty. 

Now “sense pretty”, as evident by every guy who has ever stepped foot on a college campus, does not happen in ones youth… or for that matter in ones twenties…  (Hell I am just in my thirties and its barely happening), but it does happen.  What is sense pretty?  It is the ability to see the beauty in genuine people.   It’s knowing that the girl might be beautiful in body, but if she is not beautiful in spirit and has as my “twin’s” husband would say “snakes in the head” you’re screwed. Sense pretty a lesson all men should learn… probably a lot earlier than we do.

Why the supreme court got it WRONG!!!

In case you are not familiar with the latest Supreme Court case concerning violent video games. Here it is in a Nutshell.  California ( yes that liberal state) passed a law that basically said,  minors were not allowed to purchase certain video games due the amount of graphic violence and sex that were contained in the game.  Obviously, since this affected profit margins, video game companies took the law to court and it made its way to the Supreme Court.   In a 7-2 decision the justices declared the ban on video games unconstitutional because it violated the minor’s first amendment rights.  ( On a separate note:  The world is coming to an end because I agree with Clarence Thomas )

With respect to the highest court in the land…I feel that unless they actually sampled and played a series of these games they made an uninformed decision, at the cost of our youth.   Justice Breyer and Thomas were DEAD ON in there decent saying that  the “California's law imposes no more than a modest restriction on expression. The statute prevents no one from playing a video game, it prevents no adult from buying a video game, and it prevents no child or adolescent from obtaining a game provided a parent is willing to help."  With good ole Clarence saying that the children have no rights to speech without the consent of their parents (yeah… that would be the black response “WHAT!?! RIGHTS!… not in my damn house you don’t….shhhhhiiiiit…raising my blood pressure because you THINK you have rights…sit down and open a book… play that!” :: insert old Mario brother sound effect::).  So in my own personal way I am going to take a few of the majority opinions and explain how they have NO basis in reality.

Let’s start with the Fairy tales… So for those of you that don’t know… fairy tales are rather gorey.  However, they have a point… TO TEACH.  Little Red Riding Hood… DON’T TALK TO STRANGERS! Cinderella… Identity theft is a crime, for which you will be blinded and maimed. Snow White… It’s not good to poison people because they are prettier than you. Little Mermaid… women sacrifice yourself for the man you love… (Yeah I always crack up when my students say little mermaid is their fav… I’m like umm you know she kills herself right).  There is NO POINT to graphic video games… SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME the value of a 13 year old going on a cop shooting spree and sleeping with virtual whores… NOT THE SAME THING JUSTICE SCALIA NOT THE SAME THING!!!! Side note: parents read the Disney version not the original ones to their children.

Now let’s move to what we teach in the literary cannon, for his next point was that we teach gorey things in school.  Umm… there is little pesky thing called LITERARY MERIT !!! What lesson are the students learning in teaching Animal Farm, Native Son, and A Clockwork Orange, ALL MASTERPIECES all speak to a part and time in society that we are to learn from.  AGAIN,  we’re  going to put learning our collective history in the same category as learning GRAND THEFT AUTO!!!  For the Love of GOD our judges are supposed to have the sense God gave a prairie dog (which by the way, are smart and cute animals).

As far as the influence of violent games on the psyche of children I am going to read this new study… but 1.5 million dollars and you ONLY had 1,200 students!!! I am sorry we have more than that in my high school; and if they are all in New England where the CULUTRE is different than that of LA, Detroit, D.C., or Atlanta.  The study is already biased and incapable of making such an all encompassing statement. 

The implications of this is far reaching, there are video games as pornographic as NC-17 and XXX movies what is to stop them from suing next.  I find it ironic that all the family organizations have been spending their time and energy on gay marriage because that was going to be detrimental to society…. But when REAL issues come up… they turn a blind eye.  America needs to learn discernment.

Here's your birthday song.. it isn't very long!

Birthdays...nobody loves them more than me.  I love my birthday, I love the birthdays of others, but my favorite birthday is that of Jesus (it is the only other birthday outside my own I get gifts Ha!).  I love birthdays so much that I believe in a philosophy called the birth month.  I developed this concept when my birthday got overshadowed by the risen Savior AND tax season (Dang April birthday’s).  However, it wasn’t until I woke up yesterday morning and checked my facebook (which I do before I use the restroom... I really do have a problem) that I realized the joy of birthdays.   Imagine my surprise when I noticed that I had over 15 friends and acquaintances born on that day.  It was truly a happy day.

As a member of the best Episcopal choir in the area ( no really that is not a biased statement), we are in the “off season” and in the period of “summer choir.” This is the season, we take off to do summer things or what I like  to define as my guilty reason not to miss church during the regular school year. Why? Because I use it to sleep in, watch CNN, and on occasions go to other churches with my friends (an event that makes me loves my church that much more).  But anywho, my choir director’s wife had her birthday coming up and he sent out emails asking everyone to show up and sing… and we did.

I was late (shock) but when I walked in, I thought it was a High Holy day, the choir room had over 50 members in it to celebrate the birth of our own divine Mrs. M.  I can’t remember exactly what the rector was preaching on (something about sin and centrifugal force…ummm yeah) but I do remember looking around and thinking, birthdays are our ways of celebrating living saints;  a way to praise God for blessing us with one of his angels, it is why we wish them many more… we need miracles in our lives (do you know what it takes to get pregnant and all the crap a woman has to go through to keep that child for 9 months… there’s a reason we call it the miracle of birth). I realized that my initial thoughts were accurate... I was at church during a High Holy day... a feast day of a living saint.   I find that as we grow older we forget about the miracles that God places in our lives daily.  Birthdays… we should use them to celebrate miracles.

In the African American Tradition, we have a saying “The Jesus in me see’s the Jesus in you… it’s so easy because your so easy to love.” So to the Divine Mrs. M, and to Anna, and my Little Mrs. P (still is weird saying that) and to all my other friends who are celebrating the anniversary their birth.  I thank God for you,  I pray his blessings continually shine upon you and “ The Jesus in me.. sees the Jesus in you…  it’s so easy because you’re so easy to love.”

 WISHING YOU MANY MORE!!!!!

Where everybody knows your name

“NORRRM!!!”   Ahh Norm, Probably one of the most iconic names in American pop culture.  I remember ( in the late  80s and early 90s) waiting for the show with the now iconic theme song that would later guide my love of bars and casual conversation.   Sam, Rebecca, Woody, Frasier and Lilith (who guided my eventual elitism and love of Bebe Neuwirth ), and the timeless Cliff Clavin ( STILL LOVE THE JEPORDY EPISODE) were role models and a nice thing to watch right before bed (even when my mother thought I was asleep)   Even at eight, there was something familiar about Cheers… it was more than a greeting it was a place of comfort.  Where people accepted you for who you were despite culture or class.

Now I am thirty. I have experienced a tad bit more of life, and the lyrics make a little bit more sense.   I realize that, though the show now runs in syndication on Nick-at-Night… (along with many other favorites from my childhood… a fact that both delights and horrifies me)…, regardless of the antics, the rivalries, the crazy things said, the erudite posturing of certain group members… regardless of how much of a hermit one may want to be,   end the end we all share the human experience and as they say “making the way in the world today takes everything you got.”

I say all this because; I am just coming home from a night out with some friends.  Some of which I have not seen since school let out.  In all the ripping and running I have done in the last 4 or 5 weeks I have not taken the time to truly “get away” and enjoy their friendship.  There is unexplainable connection between true friends.  If you're lucky you get one, if you're are blessed you get a few, and if you are favored you have many.   I am not talking about the 1000+ friends that we may have on facebook  (even though I love all of them….::cough cough:: J ) but the few friends we have that we give facetime.

My "Cheers" is large… but my core group is tight.  Whether it’s a phone call from my dearest friend in Alaska (who I would take a bullet for), my twin at work (who always is my sounding board for my next crazy antic), my “lawyers” and my "PR/Marketing" consultant  (who would pick up the phone at 3am if I needed them),  my friends in NY ( who recently welcomed the newest addition into the group) my brothers and sisters in education ( who always lend a hand when I am chasing a student up and down the hall, in the case of one… screening phone calls), My phone pal in the SC ( who is generally awesome) or my best mate…to be said in a British accent… (who keeps me from burning down my house, electrocution, and dismemberment whenever I attempt a DIY project. Even though he does seem to enjoy it when I hit myself with a hammer J ). They are always there.  I love it we get together, I love it when we move beyond the virtual world of connectivity and truly connect not through Facebook but with Facetime.  When we are together… no matter how frequent or infrequent we are in a place where “everybody knows your name.”

Today, Friday June 24 at 6:00pm I will have a drink for you.Hopefully with some of you.  I encourage those readers who I don’t know, or know as well to have a drink for/with your friends as well. Cheers!

Do you know how old you are? Part II: A Public Service Annoucement.

Scene:  Women in their late twenties and early thirties are at “the Applebee’s.” You can tell some are married, escaping the yells and screams of kids and their husbands at home.  They are with their “single by choice”, and “delightfully divorced“friends for a girl’s night on the town.  Someone had a tragic run in with a flat iron.

Ominous voice:   Its girl’s night out… the martinis are fruity, the voices are loud and there is a bachelor party in the backroom.  It’s going to be a good night. The purse holder gets her affairs in order as one of the divorcees attempt to reel in groomsman.  She stands up… walks over ::SCREECHING NOISE: OH NO!! THIS CHICK IS WEARING SKIN TIGHT LEAPORD PRINT AND CANDIES!!! SHE CAN BARELY WALK! This is going to be an EPIC FAIL! She gets to the room and forgets there is a step and she trips!!  A loud guffaw exits the room. Doused in bottom self appletini she becomes the purse holder :: Pause::  Do you know what you wear says about you?

Ok so maybe it didn’t happen exactly like that, she didn’t trip… but she did have an epic crash, and she was baptized in a cheap apple martini  at “the Applebee’s” (side note:  Why do I always get gift certificates to “the Applebee’s?”  I know I am black, I know they have a rib basket that’s good, but sometimes a brother wants a gift certificate to Bed Bath and Beyond… just sayin’).  It is my hope and prayer that she finds herself after  the designer cocktail baptism born again in a covenant with Tim Gunn to help guide her to a more stylish life.  To help her and all like her, I would like to share this text.

A reading from the book of Isiah …Harper 2:1-10

1: Thus sayeth the Lord God.  Thou shall NOT shop in the junior department, nor at Hello Kitty, nor anywhere cheap jewelry or tween clothing is sold.  For if thou does thou will wander the desert manless for years, and will destroy thy petite frame with Hagen Das.

2: Thou shall NOT shop at Rave, nor forever 21, nor at city trends for their clothing is cheap and made of plastic.  And if worn after the age of 22 is reminiscent of clothing worn by “lose women.” 21 is not forever, but God has provideth with something that is: Macy’s.

3: Thou shall NOT wear large  prints that resembles the likes of  beasts of the land, nor the fowl of the air, or any other creature that belongs on a Discovery Channel special.

4: Thou shall NOT covet thy girlfriend’s designer handbags, nor shoes, nor blouse, nor dress, and copy it with cheap imitations. For anything fake is an abomination to the Lord, who brought you out of the land of Wal-Mart into the land of Prada.

5: Thou Shall NOT wear something just because it comes “in your size.” For truly I say unto thee the sequined leggings in size 22 is shameful.

6: Thou Shall NOT wear pants that produce muffin tops… because surely the button may pop and become a weapon of mass destruction.

7: Thou SHALL NOT wear tracksuits in public, unless one is in, going to, or leaving the gym (ESPECIALLY of the velour variety).  People, (and by people I mean me) will laugh at you if you are under the age of 60.

8: Thou SHALL NOT have words juicy, sweet, wicked , nor the images of cats or apples or anything else that can be used to describe a fruit or lady of the night printed on thy rear.  It is just sad.

9: Thou SHALL NOT wear anything low cut to thy boyfriends house, nor thy boyfriends grandmothers house, or anyplace a where a matriarch would say “get this ho out my house.”  Nor shall you wear white, sheer, or semi sheer clothes with colored undergarments. For verily I say unto thee it says I have daddy issues and require a man’s attention.

10:Thou Shall NOT wear Birkenstocks, or tevas, or any other “camper” shoe outside of the campsite… it will cause men and some women to question.

And ladies one final word as your getting dressed this morning.  Asking guys to appreciate your efforts in looking younger GREAT! Asking them to appreciate your efforts in looking youthful…. Statutory.   At a certain age… you just need a grown ass woman.   Real men embrace it… so should you.

Do you know how old you are? A public service announcement

Scene:  Men in their late twenties and early thirties at a sports bar, it’s obvious some are married and escaping the marital bonds to be guys; and the others are on the prowl using their married friends as wingmen.  The married friends obviously need some continuing education classes on the subject. 

Ominous voice over:  The guys are out… the wings are hot, and MMA is on the screen.  Its going to be a good night, then the wingman gets ready to set the ally-oop  up with the girl across the room.   ::screeching stop:: HE IS WEARING AEROPOSTALE  he looks like a balding teenager! Mayday Mayday!! This is going to be an EPIC FAIL! The girl looks at the group of guys and retreats to the oasis of the ladies restroom.  She sends out the “Pocketbook Holder” all is lost.  The wolfpack retreats and licks its wounds only to miss again.  ::pause:: Do you know what you wear says about you?

Ok people, after having witnessed this hilarious and epic fail at the local watering hole, I feel it is my obligation to publically state for the record the rules of casual men’s wear.  It is GLARINGLY OBVIOUS that people do not know when they look a hot ghetto mess.  I know some of you who are following my blog may not know my credentials (1^st thanks for following… tell your friends… I enjoy reading some of your blogs too).  I am a graduate of American Eagle University (don’t laugh it is real thing) and I worked for GAP INC. (yes all the subgroups of GAP), and I can make a mean Mint Julep, which as everyone in south knows makes you an expert on every subject in existence (up next nuclear physics and world peace).

….. A reading from the book of Isiah….. Harper

1: Thus sayeth the Lord God: Thou shall not wear gym shorts  In Public after the age of 22 unless you are going to, are in, or coming from a gym.  You look like a douche.

2: Thou shall not wear cargo shorts for a night on the town, or on a date, or to your girlfriends mothers house, or to your girlfriends grandmothers house or anywhere your girlfriend, or the woman in your life might be. For Cargo means Camp.  (Think Salute your Shorts Camp Anawanna )

3: Thou shall not be over embroidered… for ones sexuality might be questioned.   ( side note: I don’t care too much for this rule… I look good, but I also have the ‘tude to pull it off).

4: Thou shall not have an abundance of T-shirts with crude sayings, beer logos, Scarface quotes,  or anything else that may have been left over from your middle school, or your high school or your college days.  For the Lord God finds this to be an abomination in his sight.

5: Thou Shall not wear Aeropostale after 18 for thou would look like a middle schooler .

6: Thou Shall not wear AE and AF after 26 for thou would tell the world thou has a Peter Pan complex.

7: Thou shall not wear PACSUN after 25… because its just sad….

8: Thou shall not wear designer billboards in bright colors, because it feels it gives you social status… it doesn’t unless you are on the Jersey Shore, and then we wonder what happened to you as a child and why you feel the need for such attention.

9: THOU SHALL NOT WEAR SKINNY JEANS! ( no this is not hate) but really… unless you have a 2 inch peter and microballs… I don’t see how this is even appealing.

10: Thou shall not wear the rosary as a fashion symbol… you just look dumb as all out hell.

A reading from the Lord …..

And gentleman here is one final word of advice as you are getting yourself dressed in the morning… How you look tells people how good you are going to be in bed. If you look like a teenage boy… you are telling her you are going to screw like a teenage boy, but if you look like a grown ass take charge man… well… you get the point… Happy Shopping.

I'm in a New York State of Mind: The Bible and Gay Marriage

I am a Christian, more importantly I am a Christian brought up in the Southern African American tradition. Which, for those of you who don’t know, there is only one “sin” worse than homosexuality… an educated black man marrying a white woman. HA!  Lord I remember the grief I got taking my bff to PROM who just happened to be white, it was so bad I asked another girl with pigment in her skin to go just for the pictures… yeah guys… I’m 30 I can admit it now… on the bright side my mother and father never cared. If you doubt the homophobia that runs through the African American Culture look at Prop 8… it would not have passed without the record turnout of older black voters to vote for the first black president.  Mormon Money… Black Voters. However, I digress.  I state that to let you know I am familiar with every biblical passage about homosexual “acts of indecency” Leviticus 18:22, Romans 1:26-27, and 1 Corinthians 6:9 but I know the following to be true.

The Bible must be wrestled with. The Bible is a living breathing document; it is a storyteller, a father, a mother, a brother, a sister, a comforter in our time of need.  The Bible is the bank of our collective history.  To use it without an understanding of historical context as a method of fear and confusion is beyond sinful… it’s blasphemous. When the aforementioned passages are placed in context they are both at the genesis of a nation and culture; it is critical for them to reproduce to keep the fledgling society populated. (sidenote: this is the same reason why its sinful to masturbate, I don’t see any laws against that. Jesus if there was… there goes GT, MIT, Cal Tech, and every other school that is male dominated).  Needless to say… society has changed over the last 5000 years.

Wrestling with the Divine, has biblical precedence… in Hosea Jacob wrestled with an angel for his blessing.  Moses, the writer of our first five books, wrestled with God to defend his people. When we want a blessing we wrestle with the divine being: its why God gave us choice. It is no different, in the issue of Gay marriage.

We find ourselves at a change in generations; a generation willing to follow their biblical heritage to wrestle with the Bible, and those that are afraid. It makes them uncomfortable.  To them I ask the question: What Would Jesus Do?  Not, what would Paul do, but Jesus… He who came that we might have life and have it abundantly, he who preached the gospel of love, He that changed the moral majority.  He who included even the leapers.  Jesus wrestled with Bible… and he won.

There maybe many reasons people don’t want to see the union of same sex people… but please for the LOVE of GOD… don’t use the Bible.

All my rowdy friends have settled down: Father's day

For some people, Father’s day is a dark blip on the calendar only to be celebrated with a gift to oneself (because lets just face it… it’s a good time to buy a TV or any other electronic device) and the proverbial shot of libation.  I know... this makes you gasp in horror... but take a moment and think about the following subgroup of people: people of divorce, children of the incarcerate, those that lost their father to untimely death, those men that can’t or don’t have children of their own, children of absent fathers,  and of course cabbage patch kids ( someone tell me how they reproduce!!).   For this subgroup of people, Father’s day may conjure up the same amount horror that  the 40 year old virgin and the 39 year old spinster feel on Valentines day, the entirety of the Christmas season, the 4^th of July or any other time of year you are supposed to be getting laid.  I know this, because in my early twenties I was one of these people.

It wasn’t until a couple of years ago that I was able to “let go” of that anger, (and as a black man… we all know... I love my anger, or at least the media says I do) and reach a point of forgiveness acceptance.  It wasn’t until my rowdy core group,  as Hank Williams Jr laments, settled down and started having kids of their own that I started to fall in love with Father’s day again.  Not because I was living vicariously, (because JESUS I like my house like I like my church QUIET) but because they are just such KICK ASS DADS! I enjoy their joy, and respect the RIDICULOUS amount of work they put into their greatest responsibility. It needs to be commended, and for their joy I say HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!

I guess, in away, that is my Father’s day gift to God, and in a round about way to my own father: the letting go (Cause my dad sure is hell ain’t getting an iPad2 LOL).  My friends are great dad’s and one of them made me their child’s godfather, it’s like a grandfather with less responsibility… I get to buy her nice things, see her in church, teach her the stories of our faith in children’s church, when she is old enough... walk her through confirmation, and serve as stakeout partner if she ever loses her mind and dates a cray- cray and her father needs an accomplice (after all, I made an oath in front of God and the entire church, that baptismal covenant has a “keep her from dating a cray-cray” clause).  So... with all that…if you have a great father…and he is still a great father… love him a bit more for those of us that wish we had one too. And if you are a great father, remain a great father…because you never know who else it might heal.  HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!

Lezzi’s and Gay’s, and Bi’s OH MY!!!

     So... if you are member or a friend of the “community” as it is called, you are aware that once a year, typically between June-September Queens (not to be confused with gays) around the world gather their hoop skirts, dawn ridiculous attire and march in the street to Cher, Madonna, Christina, and/or Lady Gaga depending on your generation (however, I am pretty sure they are all the same person… Vampires never age). Yes, it is the season of PRIDE!  However, I would like to pose the question… Is this really necessary?  Before people get their panties in a knot:

1.      NOBODY loves a good drag show more than me… they are quite entertaining!

2.      I teach Drama and Ballet …(need I say more here)

3.      I love the community

However, as an educator I have to wonder: What is the cost of all this so called PRIDE?

     Recently, I had a conversation with a student who is going through their own coming of age. Their parents (and I am staying gender neutral for a reason), are “stereotypically Christian”  and we will call it “southern gender typical”  and though we are in the generation of Ellen, Will and Grace, LOGO, HERETV, Neil Patrick Harris and secretly Anderson Cooper ( come on …he does a show with Kathy Griffin!!) This student has made himself sick, because his knowledge and for that matter his parents knowledge of what gay is...is the over the top celebration of PRIDE.  What is the cost of that Pink thong?

     Before somebody attempts to give me a history lesson about PRIDE: I know it.  However, there is a difference between pride and theatrically. Pride is not flaunting your sexuality, but appreciating your history.  Leave the floats dedicated to promiscuous sex (however fun) and make more prominate the floats dedicated to Rock Hudson, Ellen,  Alvin Ailey, Billie Joe Armstrong, John Altherson, Bishop Gene Robinson, James Baldwin, Samuel Barber, Clive Barker and  slew of other folks I don’t feel like looking up on Wikipedia. You can’t tell people “IT GETS BETTER” when society is constantly inundated with unsupportive images, many of which is not only fostered by, but supported by the LGBT community.  There are more average Dick and Jane questioning teens out there than those that want to dance semi nude on a gay pride float. Note: I am not saying sexuality is all that PRIDE stands for, but like it or not, that is the face of PRIDE.   LGBT youth  need to know that "it gets better" because there are Doctors, Lawyers, Politicians, Police men and women, teachers, engineers, and host of other professional occupations, that are SOCIETAL SUCCESSES.  LBGT  youth do not have to be a stereotypes ( Bears, Twinks, Dykes, Lipstick, Gym Rats etc.) to “fit in”; only then will "IT GET BETTER."
     I am grateful that my “children” feel comfortable enough to call me and say “I really need to talk”… even in my off months, even when they’re in college… It means a lot …But dear God, the LGBT community needs a PR agent badly… But then again what do I know… I am just a Negro on a veranda….

To My kid…I cry with you because I love you, God loves you… I need you to survive… This song is for you….

One if by land two if by sea:

By now, unless you are a rabbit and you live in a hole, you would have heard of Sarah Palin's latest and greatest flub.  If not, please click here to make yourself familiar.  With a mint juliep in your hand.

As an educator, I can only wonder where she could been for the entirety of her elementary years. Am I the only one that has the Pavlovian response to start reciting "Listen my children and you shall hear of the midnight ride of Paul Revere?" Simply typing those words resurrects  memories of apple pies,  Franklin's Almanac, and the uncontrollable urge to throw out all my Earl Grey. I question how one can drape themselves in the symbol of the greatest country on earth (yes I said it, we have our problems but we are still better than every other one, and I have travelled enough to make that judgement) and not know stories of why we are so great.  It is beyond insulting, it is down right stupid.

     There comes a  point where someone becomes so stupid their stupidity becomes vampiric. It drains you of all energy and rational thought; and if you are not careful, unknowingly, you can channel this vampiric energy. All sane and intelligent human beings should run for fear of being attacked. Actually, contemporary and classic culture has created a name for such vampiric behaviors: ZOMBIES!!! 

     I hear you saying, Zombies Isiah.... really?  However, I must ask you to look at the facts.  What do Zombies feed on? Answer: YOUR BRAINS! What happens when they feed on you? Answer: YOU BECOME AN INFECTED ZOMBIE!!! What do you do once you have been infected? Answer: INFECT OTHERS!!! Make no mistake if you are not careful, you will become a ZOMBIE!! Sarah Palin is QUEEN OF THE ZOMBIES! We must leave our traditional understanding of Zombies... if Vampires twinkle in the sun like diamonds and fall in love with teenage girls ( who may or may not have been infected by a Zombie, cause really bitch he is a damn vampire!!) It is MORE than LIKELY that a ZOMBIE can be kinda hot, and carry a shot gun! Even the Center for Disease Control has issued a memorandum concerning the Zombie Apocalypse if you do not believe me click here!  All I am saying is I am going  to be prepared!  I take solace in the fact that all is not lost, ZOMBIES can be destroyed!!! Unlike mummies...them bitches don't die.

   
Just food for thought.