It is becoming increasingly annoying to have people ask me how my son is doing. I know that is harsh and unreasonable, but its the way I feel. People have no idea how difficult it is to come to terms with the fact that I am basically a friend to my son, not a father. He has a mother and a stepfather who are charge of the day-to-day duties of raising a son. They put him to bed, they wake up, check his homework, organize activities for him, and other things that I am probably clueless about. That is what parenting is about. And then here I come along once or twice a week via phone or email asking him how things are. 90% of my interaction comes that way, with visit sprinkled in at various points during the year. Considering my father laid the blueprint down for what a good father should be, I feel helpless and downright embarrassed that I can't return the favor to my son. It isn't from a lack of trying, but when you "choose" to have a child out of wedlock, and marriage is not a viable option, often times the courts determines your fate. And I am caught in such a web. There are times when I am just downright sad about this situation, and other times I'm at peace with it. The problem is, when people say to me, "Oh so how's Carlton doing?" they never know which side of the spectrum my feelings lie.

So let me get this straight. Lance Armstrong wins 7 Tours de France(or is it Tour de Frances), never tests positive for any kind of substance, or even has a suspicious drug test. Yet over the past 8 or 9 years or so, the US media, the French media, and everyone in between has been killing him, and themselves trying to find that elusive positive drug test, and the substance that he took with it. Pretty Boy Floyd Landis wins one Tour de France, and not even a week after he wins it, his drug test comes up dirty. Even if Floyd is the victim of some kind of mixup, this is making Lance look that much better. No sport has a more strenuous drug testing program than cyclnig. Lance came up clean repeatedly, and his successor, when placed under that same microscope, is now dirty. This is all alleged of course.

Nothing more to say today. not now at least

I am seriously slacking with this whole working out thing. I'm not going to bitch and moan about how I'm an old man and all that, but there is a noticeable difference between the 25 year old Rashad and the 31 going on 32 year old Rashad (please excuse the third person). The 25 year old Rashad could sit on his ass for three months, and then step out on the basketball court for a week straight, and feel invincible. Minimal soreness, maximum quickness, and the feeling that 3 or 4 weeks of this, and the Wizards could sign me up to run point. The 31 year old Rashad sits on his ass for a week, and immediately he feels like Sherman Klump. Any basketball that happens is strictly half court, and the aforementioned quickness on defense, is now replaced with clutching, grabbing, and repeated fouling. And the soreness lasts for at least a week. I feel it when I sit, stand, walk, when I get in someone's ride(well maybe not the ride), and even when I attempt to get some lovin'. I had a good month stretch when I was getting up and running every morning, playing tennis, and just staying in shape. But my partner is no longer around, so the motivation isn't as consistent. When I had a partner, working out was a competitive thing..she was in shape, and my ego would say, there is no way she is going to be in better shape than me. Now she's gone and knee deep in grad school The least she could have done is referred me to another athletic friend or something. The sad part is I'm only 10 lbs heavier than I was at 25. I definitely don't have low self esteem over this bullshit, but it is on my mind.

I'd also like to say that these low rise jeans that woman wear are just absolutely spectacular. On any give day I can see a tattoo just above the ass, a well placed thong, nice drawers, and if I'm lucky I can see about 40% of the ass. Great, great invention.

Is their some unwritten rule that says that if I put 35 cents in the newspaper machine, and get my paper out, that someone else is allowed to get a paper too? I see this every morning, but it normally doesn't happen to me. Today it did. I put my money in, got a paper, and out of nowhere, this man attempts to reach across, and grab a newspaper out on my dime(quarter and a dime to be exact). I acted like I didn't see him, closed the door, and then looked right in his face and said, "oh, my bad man". Yes it is only 35 cents, and its not like I work for the Post or anything, but still..I'm simply not that nice. If you can afford a suit, a nice tie, and a leather briefcase that probably doesn't have anything in it except rhymes and recipes anyway, surely you can afford a newspaper. I should waved my finger in his face like Dikembe.

I walked past a homeless man today with a croissant and some orange juice, and he was looking at me as if to say, you can buy all that, but you can't spare any change? And I looked at him as if to say, check cards man, check cards..Alright enough of the morning observations.

A friend of mine asked me yesterday if I could really keep it real on a blog, knowing that so many people are reading, and that is a damn good point. I'd say that 70% of what it is on my mind, is what I will type. It isn't premeditated or anything, I'm just typing what is on my mind..for the most part. The other 30% are things that I am simply not ready to broadcast to the world for whatever reason. I have some deep, dark secrets, that I am not ready to own up to, as does everyone. It isn't always easy to readily share every damn thing. Im trying though. I will admit this though..I got so mad at a friend of mine yesterday, that I "accidentally" broke a glass night stand in my bedroom. I spent 2 hrs cleaning up that glass, all because I can't always control my temper...I could expand on that more, but where 's the fun in that..I don't even think my friends really know how bad my temper is. I keep it hidden with sarcasm and dry wit, but sometimes it comes out in bad ways.

It bothers me deeply that rap/hip hop seems to be the only genre of music where the artists actually outgrow it. In recent interviews, I hear Outkast, specifically Andre, talking about how he's bored, and he wants to do other things. Now far be it from me to hold a brother back from branching out, but what's wrong with rapping? I can name numerous artists from different genres of music who recorded deep into their 50s, 60s and 70s. Johnny Cash, The Temptations, Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis, Smokey Robinson, The Rolling Stones, David Bowie are all artists who STILL recorded in their later years. They may have branched out into other things, but music remained the centerpiece. why can't rappers do that? Why do they have to fall off or get bored or breakup and do nothing? My three favorite groups growing up were EPMD, Gangstarr and A Tribe Called Quest. Eric and Parrish can be working at Ben's Chilli Bowl for all I know, DJ Premier is still producing but where's the Guru? And A Tribe Called Quest threatens to get back together, but it still hasn't happened. I feel old all of a sudden

Jamal is getting married next month, and even typing those words feels weird. That's my baby brother, and now not only are he and his lady getting married but they are having a baby on top of that. I'm proud of him, and I know he'll do just fine. He's always been loyal in relationships..a trait that has eluded me. Perhaps I'll be inspired now...or maybe not. I know people who are happily married, and then I remember Kramer telling Jerry on an episode of Seinfeld that marriages are man-made prisons. With the exception of one person, I'm usually ready to bail after 6 months. Sometimes its a bad decision, other times I get out just in time. But it still feels like there's a huge chasm between my maturity level, and what it takes to commit to someone for life. Gold star for Jamal though. None of my two boys are married either, and we are all knee deep in our 30s. We haven't even had close calls. If it doesn't happen in the next few years, we may all end up living together in the ultimate 40 year old bachelor's pad..if such a thing exists. Let MTV come watch US for 6 months..they'd learn alot

I spent 10 of my 15 minute train ride in this morning trying to position myself to look up this woman's skirt. I know that puts me in the pervert category, but damn her legs were WIDE open. She was reading the paper, so she couldn't see my eyes, so it was open season on her private parts. She had on no drawers either..but then her stop came, she put the paper down, and I got a good look at her. She had a nice body, but her face looked like Lawrence Taylor.. overbite and all (http://sportsmed.starwave.com/i/magazine/new/lawrence_taylor_hall.jpg). Never a good look. But I suppose that's what I get for being a dirty old man. All comedians should be required to ride the train at least one week out of their life. There is a countless amount of material on there.

Barry Bonds and the Giants are in town for a three game series against the Nationals. I just may ditch work to go see him play..possibly for the last time. Steroids or no steroids, the man is a legend. Plus I wouldn't mind catching one of his balls..home run balls that is

First, let me join the rest of the world by talking about Tiger Woods, specifically his relationship with his father. It is no secret that my father means the world to me. I mean that as no slight to my mother, but since I was 4, I always remember being closer to him. I used to cry when my father went out of town, and I'd be right there in the living room waiting on him when he returned. In my preteen and teen years, my father was the dictator, and our relationship was strained. He would still show me why he was my hero, but more often than not, he would show me that he was the father, I was the son, and if I were to disobey that he'd rain down with furious vengeance. But since my college years, and definitely since around age 25, my father has been my best friend. We talk about everything from sports, to politics, to his divorce from my mother, to women in general. Not a week goes by when I don't trade an email or a phone call with him. Back on Father's Day 1996, when Michael Jordan won the NBA championship, and then immediately started crying over his slain father, I immediately called my father and did the same. He was thinking of his father who died suddenly of heart attack at the age of 50, and I was thinking of my father who was miles away from me.

That being said, I can't imagine losing my father. Not now anyway. I've yet to do so many things, and once I do, I'll need his advice and his love to get thru. That is mad selfish of me I know, but that's the bar my father has set for our relationship. So when I saw Tiger break down on that 18th hole yesterday, I felt that. No to get terribly melodramatic, but I damn near cried myself. After EVERY golf event, loss or victory, Tiger and his dad would talk about what he did well, what he could improve on, and everything in between. After Tiger's FIRST major victory, he made a beeline for his father, and cried in his arms for a good 10 minutes for all the world to see. After his last victory, Earl Woods wasn't there in person, wasn't accessible by phone, just nowhere to be found except in Tiger's head. That alone was enough to make him lose it. And i felt for him.

I didn't call my dad right away, but we did talk about Tiger and other things. It is rare that my dad and I end the convo with an I love you..but we did yesterday. perhaps we should more often.

I always thought people who posted their thoughts online and put them in a blog format were pompous. It's akin to a supervisor who calls meeting repeatedly, not to get things done, but to make folks listen to them for 2 hours at a time. But now that I've jumped on this blog bandwagon(peep the alliteration son), I am putting a different spin on it. Blogs are designed to keep anti-social people like me from going crazy..thus the web address.

Now I have two things on my mind this fine friday. One, I need a new barbershop. I was cheated on my main barber, and now there is dissension in the ranks so I have to abandon ship altogether. I've been going to the same shop in PG Plaza(fuck the new name) for 10 years, and now I have to go elsewhere. This is not a good look. Had my other barber not jacked up my hairline, I'd be straight. Now i'm reduced to going to a new shop and praying that I can find a "one take barber", who will cut my hair right the first time.

Two, it is nice to see Tiger Woods get his swagger back at the British Open. I would never have watched golf it hadn't been for Tiger, and when he is doing badly, all is not well with the world. He's playing well, he's put his father's death in perspective, and he's back on top...for now. That's a tenuous position but for now i'll take it.

as i'm typing i am realizing that this initial entry sucks ass. But its mine, so I can do that. Perhaps i'll post more later. This is all for now.

great things to come...