Friday, October 31, 2008

My apologies to Bill Maher...

New rules: If there is a line of five individuals at Starbucks, and you are the fifth person to order a drink, you can NOT hover over the drink pickup area, like you are lion protecting your young. But if you decide that's the course of action you want to take, and you're a portly, obese person, you can't get mad when someone tries to pick up their drink and they accidentally brush you.

This lady ordered her drink last, and had her big stomach and breasts all over the drink pickup area. I attempted to get mine(that's what she said), and she would NOT move, so I had to gangster my way to the drink, and in doing so, I caught the left side of her breast, and she had the nerve to suck her teeth, and act angry, but at no point did she back her big ass up.

New rules: Unless you can show me a 10 bullet point list of how its done, you cannot walk around saying that you put country first more than anyone else. McCain and Palin are killing me with these signs everywhere claiming they are doing this, yet no one bothers to ask them how they accomplish this. Better yet, aside from a young spry William Ayers in his prime and criminals, who DOESN'T put their country first? We live here, we spend money here, we pay taxes, etc, so just shut the hell up with that bull

New rules: If Michelle and Barack Obama send me another email asking me for money and support, I am unleashing the fury on their inbox come November 5th. Whether they win or lose the election, I (and all 10 of my friends) will send them emails four or five times a day, with updates in my life: Rashad just brushed up against a monstrous breast at Starbucks; Rashad is two seconds away from getting some great sex; Rashad is a little light in the wallet and needs a donation. If they can do it to me, I can do it right back to them and I will.

New rules: Girlfriends/wives have to always buy clothes for their man/husband. My lady bought me this black shirt on Tuesday, and initially I was skeptical. It was a bit young (read: small) on me, and I felt like Common for a second. But today when I put it on, loosened up a bit, and fit perfectly, and I have gotten a compliment on it already. I never get compliments on things that I buy, but whenever m'lady hooks me up, all of sudden I feel special. So dear, if you're reading this (and you better be), if you could buy all of my shirt and slacks now, that would be terrific.

Stevie Wonder, live on Soul Train, performing, "Perfect Angel" and "Lovin You" during a tribute to Minnie Ripperton(1979):

Thursday, October 30, 2008

First off, please read my game notes from last night. Again, even if you aren't a bball fan, just look at it and forward them to someone, so hoopsaddict can their numbers up.

If I had to grade my performance last night after covering my first professional NBA game, I'd give myself a C+. I did not expect to, but I definitely had that deer in headlights look on more than one occasion. It wasn't so much that I was starstruck, I was just overwhelmed by the pace of things. All of the journalists seem to know exactly where to go, how long to stay, which players to talk, where the food was, etc. I felt like I was two steps slow the whole night, I and I guess I should allow myself some leeway since this was my first GAME, not a practice and not summer league. That being said, I already have my strategy program for the next game, and I will NOT be caught off guard like that again.

In other news, as I type this blog, I am trying to upload some items to my ipod including the Sports Guy podcast and the new John Legend, and for some odd reason, my cord is not working, and it is pissing me off. It didn't work last night before I went to bed, and it damn sure isn't working this morning. I've become so spoiled and dependent on this damn thing, that I don't know how to act when its broken. Now I have to try to listen to both of these things at work, which is damn near impossible.

I missed the 30 minute Obama infomercial last night, although my lady said I didn't miss much. Did anyone else see it? I gotta tell you, it takes some balls and some arrogance to delay the World Series (congrats to you Lex and bfnh), and spend 30 minutes talking about yourself. I wonder if there will be some sort of backlash. I can't say even if I was home, that I would have watched that.

Poor Georgie - MC Lyte

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

I was so excited about covering this event tonight, that I go zero sleep. I attempted to go to bed about 12:30 or so, but I ended up talking and joking around with my lady for 30 minutes then she fell asleep. Then, as is the case with being awake in the middle of the night, I started thinking about all kinds of things. I thought about how I would do tomorrow, I thought about how my son is doing out in Arizona(long story), I am still worried about lady and her health, I'm worried about MY you can imagine this was a bit overwhelming, so I got my ass up and went out to the couch.

I was much too tired and lazy to get on the computer to download all types of fancy adult movies or read about sports, so I turned on the television. I watched a special on the Calzaghe/Jones that's' coming up next weekend, then I caught a bit of The Departed, and then I watched an entire Sportscenter, and before long I looked up and it was 4:45am. I did not want to go back, get in the bed, and wake up my lady, so I forced myself to sleep on the couch, and it worked for 5 minutes, before my lady came and go me and told me to go to bed. By the time I fell asleep, it was damn near 5:30. I got out of bed at 7:30, and I arrived to work at 8:27. Why am I chronicling all this? Because clearly I want your pity and sympathy, because I am dead tired and between work and the game tonight, my day won't end until 10pm.

I can't say I'm in the mood to write much more. So I'll end with music. This is Dave Brubeck and Al Jarreau performing, "Take Five"

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

I was a part of something beautiful yesterday, and I would be remiss if I did not share this with my 3 readers.

I had to pick up my dry cleaning right after work yesterday and for once I actually had my ticket. Usually I leave it at home and although the ladies in there are very nice about finding my stuff, they start speaking really rapidly in their language, and I know they are talking about me, uttering all types of curses of racial slurs. How do I know this? Because I'd do the same thing. Anyway, I had my ticket when I strode in the shop, and initially no one was behind the counter. Then about 30 seconds later, one of the ladies appeared from behind the counter, she looked up to see that it was me, then she stopped, turned around and automatically starting looking for my clothes, even though I had yet to give her my ticket, which would indicate exactly where my clothes were. Clearly she knew who I was.

Then, after she got my clothes, she hung them up, she gave me a brief smile, then she rang up my total which came to $13, and I handed her my card(I didn't put it on the counter, and make her reach for it, that's rude. Just like its rude when I put a card or money in some one's hand, then they return the favor by putting it on the counter. What kind of shit is that?). Anyway, she ran my card, got a pen for me, and I signed my name, detached my yellow receipt from her white one, grabbed my clothes, told her to have a good night, she said you too, and I left the store. So what's the big deal? I'll tell what the big deal was..

1)She knew who I was. That's huge to me, and frankly that's what customer service is about. This means that eventually, somewhere down the road, I will get some kind of cleaners hookup. I don't know what it is, but its coming baby. Its akin to knowing a bartender and getting a mysteriously cheap tab, despite the fact that serious drinking has gone down.

2)She didn't bore me with small talk. Most places of business seem to hire the most annoying people in the world who talk about their kids, the weather, recent sports events, how tired they are, or in this case, this woman could even commented on my clothes in some shape, form or fashion. But she did not. She stayed quiet, efficiently processed my transaction, and kept it moving.. She flashed a brief smile, but that was it. I like that.

Again, this may not seem like a big deal to you, but you should start mentally analyzing your interactions with store clerks, waiters, bartenders, etc and watch how many times your times your time is wasted and you are made to listen to something that absolutely nothing to do with you. Or maybe you have better things to do with your time. Clearly I do not.

Tomorrow is the first day of the Washington Wizards season and I am nervous and excited all at the same time. That's all I'll say for right now.

Get Involved - Raphael Saadiq featuring Q-tip

Monday, October 27, 2008

For reasons that are way beyond the amount of intelligence my 33 year old brain as accrued, my girlfriend's ex is still calling her cellphone. They basically split up in May of last year, and when he kept calling last summer, I kind of understood that. When someone gets dumped, and they still want the other person, their inclination is to keep calling the person for a bit just to be SURE that their decision is indeed final. And then usually the person who did the dumping either reaffirms their decision, or they cave and the relationship resumes(and usually fails again). In this instance, my lady gave him a GFY and that should have been the end of it. But it wasn't.

Since last summer this jackass calls/texts at least once a month, and of course my lady doesn't answer. Sometimes he leaves messages, other times he simply hangs up. Even MY ex stopped calling/texting me at the end of last year, and we were together on and off for about 6 years. Of course it didn't help that I gave her my blog address while we were still together, so once we split up she still checked it, and saw some content that no ex should have to be subjected to. Oh well.

Anyway, back in September my lady's ex called, and she ignored it, and I decided that the next time he called, I would answer. Now I am not exactly an imposing figure, nor would I characterize myself as an intimidating figure, but that damn sure was not going to stop me from answering the phone. Our lives have been rough lately, and while it isn't nice to take it out on anyway around me, it sure would be nice to take it out on an ex who should have BEEN gone. Of course, he stopped calling for a spell, and I thought that he had finally gotten the point, which would mean my chance to be an ass had come and gone. Then he called last Thursday.

When my lady said it was him, she threw me the phone, and then a devious smile came across my face, and I answered the phone. I heard fumbling on the other side of the line, and then he hung up the phone. What the hell was that? You've been calling this number since last summer, you never get an answer, and then someone finally answers and you don't even fight for your ex-lady's honor? Plus you deny me the chance to verbally antagonize you for at least 5 minutes?

Anyway, so that I don't end on a negative note, let me wish everyone a beautiful week. And here is an inspirational song.

Chuck Mangione - Feels So Good

Saturday, October 25, 2008

If you remember this entry from May of 2007, you'll know that losing my records and my record collection was one of the more devastating consequences of the fire. I had worked my way up to about 100 records, and I was looking forward to making it bigger(that's what she said). So until that point, I had not been motivated to buy a record player, let alone more records. Today, all of that changed.

Linens N Things is having a going-out-of-business sale, and lo and behold, one of things that was 30% off was a record player. I spent some time with my Dad, and when I left his house, I went up there, bought a record player, bought some records, came home smiling, let my lady pick which record she wanted to hear, and cued it up. I think I've smiling ever since. I bought:
1)Cleaning Out My Closet remixes - Eminem
2)Philadelphia Freeway - Freeway
3)Adventures in Time - Dave Brubeck
4)Sly and the Family Stone Greatest Hits - Sly and the Family Stone
5)The Genie - Bob James
6)Rough and Ready - Jeff Beck Group

This matters to no one but me, but I am pumped.
No words today. Just music. The song is called Move. The artist is Q-tip. The beat is done by the late James Yancey, and the cd is called The Renaissance and it comes out on November 4th. Check the video out:

Find more videos like this on Q-Tip

Friday, October 24, 2008

Here is my PSA for the day..Go buy the new Foreign Exchange CD at Borders, amazon, itunes or wherever you get your music. I will link ONE song, and then you have to buy the rest. you won't regret it. The song below is called House of Cards.

Before I proceed with what will surely be a depressing blog entry, let me first ask you to go read my article about the Washington Wizards. Even if you don't like sports, just go read it or at least forward it someone who does like sports, specifically basketball. Thank you in advance.

Before my lady and I lost the baby, we had a ritual every Sunday. I would break out my camera phone, and she would lift up her shirt, and I would take two pictures of her stomach. I would take one from the front, and then the second would be a side profile. We started this the first week of July, and we vowed to continue this each and every week until she gave birth. I even created a folder on my laptop, and whenever I logged in, I would open the folder, look the progress she was making and smile to myself. I never had the chance to do that type of thing with my first son, so the fact that I had the chance to do it now, had me damn near giddy.

I remember after she lost the baby and we finally came home from the hospital, I had to pay the cable bill, because with all that was going on, I had completely forgotten about it. When I sat down and logged into my computer, the pictures of her stomach were up on my computer, as I had been looking at them the night before we went to the hospital. My lady, my lady's sister and I were all in the same room, and because my lady had finally gotten home from the hospital everyone was relatively upbeat. I had to hold in my tears and not cry, because things were so fragile at that point, that my outpouring of emotion would surely cause a crying chain reaction, and I did not want to be the catalyst..not then anyway. Not only did I immediately delete that folder, but I went the recycle bin and deleted it from there too, so I wouldn't be tempted to look at the folder and further depress myself.

Now, two weeks after everything went down, my emotions are a little different. Despite the upbeat nature of my blogs, and even though I am seemingly normal at work, it still hurts a great deal. I saw a pregnant woman as I entered work yesterday, and my emotions ranged from jealousy, to sadness, to just pure rage, and I had to get check myself before I walked into my office, because I surely would taken my anger out on someone who may or may not have deserved it. I don't want to be that guy..I'm neurotic enough as it is on my own without the aid of tragedy adding to it.

I guess my point here is that I miss having access to that folder of my lady's stomach. I could use the comfort of looking at them and not only remembering the happiness surrounding them, but also knowing that we can get to that point again, and actually seal the deal. I wish I had not been so emotional that day I got back from the hospital. Even as I type this I wonder if that's normal, or am I not practicing healthy behavior by wishing I had held on to that..

Funeral Dirge - Terence Blanchard

Thursday, October 23, 2008

There are three things that frighten me when I am in midst of my morning 3 mile run: Squirrels, Homeless People and Dogs.

Squirrels scare me just because of their pure unpredictability. They are quick, they are shifty, their change of direction is phenomenal, and when you consider that are basically glorified rats, there is a hint of crazy in them as well. When I see one of these creatures while I'm running, my first impulse is to just keep running, because I am working under the premise that they simply defer to me..similar to the cars operate at a four-way stop. But there are other instances when these squirrels just keep running towards me en route to their destination, and although I am 70% sure they won't attack, that 30% makes me quicken the pace a bit. I quicken the pace, I get out of rhythm, then I get tired prematurely..sounds like sex a bit huh?

Now when I describe how I'm fearful of the homeless, this is no way a mockery of them and their situation. I am simply describing how they affect my jogs. Now, when I leave for my run around 6:15 or so, most of the homeless crew are still sleeping, but some of them are just waking up. This morning for example, this gentleman and his shopping card just abruptly emerged from a dark alley, and I literally yelled out, "Oh shit!", and then the homeless guy jumped back a bit, and it was just too much for me to take at 6am. Other times, I see homeless people, and despite the fact that I am running and completely out of breath, they still ask me for money. This creates a huge guilt trip on my part, because I feel like I should at least give SOME of the homeless folk SOME money, but I don't want to shortchange my workout, so I keep it moving. This paragraph feels a bit mean.

The last but certainly not the least of my jogging fears revolve around dogs. When I am not running I can deal with dogs. I pet some, ignore some, and all the rest I stay ready to kick in their jaw, and then run away from them like Usain Bolt. Unfortunately when I am mid-run my options with the dogs are a bit more limited. The dogs can bother me in two ways: 1)Their damn flea collars/identification chains jingle and make all kind of racket. Sometimes I hear the noise before I actually see the dog, and this is a head-on-a-swivel situation and its very distracting when I am trying to set world records during this 3 mile run. 2)You have dogs who for some reason feel the need to bark and growl like DMX, when they see you coming. I want to give the dog owner the benefit of the doubt, and assume that they will reel the dog in and away from me. But with all dogs there is a split second that you lose control before you reel them in, and I am fearful that this lapse in response time will cost me a bit of my leg or even worse my genitals. I'd go from running to stay in shape, to a life of impotence.

If you haven't already, please read the Larry David article that is right below the song I am getting ready to post. Its pretty damn me at least.

Rollercoaster - Everything But the Girl

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

From the mind of Mr. Larry David courtesy of The Huffington Post:

Larry David
Posted October 22, 2008 | 06:44 PM (EST)
Waiting for Nov. 4th

I can't take much more of this. Two weeks to go, and I'm at the end of my rope. I can't work. I can eat, but mostly standing up. I'm anxious all the time and taking it out on my ex-wife, which, ironically, I'm finding enjoyable. This is like waiting for the results of a biopsy. Actually, it's worse. Biopsies only take a few days, maybe a week at the most, and if the biopsy comes back positive, there's still a potential cure. With this, there's no cure. The result is final. Like death.

Five times a day I'll still say to someone, "I don't know what I'm going to do if McCain wins." Of course, the reality is I'm probably not going to do anything. What can I do? I'm not going to kill myself. If I didn't kill myself when I became impotent for two months in 1979, I'm certainly not going to do it if McCain and Palin are elected, even if it's by nefarious means. If Obama loses, it would be easier to live with it if it's due to racism rather than if it's stolen. If it's racism, I can say, "Okay, we lost, but at least it's a democracy. Sure, it's a democracy inhabited by a majority of disgusting, reprehensible turds, but at least it's a democracy." If he loses because it's stolen, that will be much worse. Call me crazy, but I'd rather live in a democratic racist country than a non-democratic non-racist one. (It's not exactly a Hobson's choice, but it's close, and I think Hobson would compliment me on how close I've actually come to giving him no choice. He'd love that!)

The one concession I've made to maintain some form of sanity is that I've taken to censoring my news, just like the old Soviet Union. The citizenry (me) only gets to read and listen to what I deem appropriate for its health and well-being. Sure, there are times when the system breaks down. Michele Bachmann got through my radar this week, right before bedtime. That's not supposed to happen. That was a lapse in security, and I've had to make some adjustments. The debates were particularly challenging for me to monitor. First I tried running in and out of the room so I would only hear my guy. This worked until I knocked over a tray of hors d'oeuvres. "Sit down or get out!" my host demanded. "Okay," I said, and took a seat, but I was more fidgety than a ten-year-old at temple. I just couldn't watch without saying anything, and my running commentary, which mostly consisted of "Shut up, you prick!" or "You're a fucking liar!!!" or "Go to hell, you cocksucker!" was way too distracting for the attendees, and finally I was asked to leave.

Assuming November 4th ever comes, my big decision won't be where I'll be watching the returns, but if I'll be watching. I believe I have big jinx potential and may have actually cost the Dems the last two elections. I know I've jinxed sporting events. When my teams are losing and I want them to make a comeback, all I have to do is leave the room. Works every time. So if I do watch, I'll do it alone. I can't subject other people to me in my current condition. I just don't like what I've turned into -- and frankly I wasn't that crazy about me even before the turn. This election is having the same effect on me as marijuana. All of my worst qualities have been exacerbated. I'm paranoid, obsessive, nervous, and totally mental. It's one long, intense, bad trip. I need to come down. Soon.
Who the hell are these undecided voters? What is their profile? And more importantly what the hell is their problem? The election is less than two weeks away, there have been 459 campaign commercials aired in the past 30 minutes alone. In fact my lady and I have a favorite Barack commercial which is sad. Its the one when he explains how is mother went over school lessons with him, and when he complained his mother says, "This is no picnic for me either Buster." Really Barack? Did she really say Buster? I find that hard to believe buddy.

Anyway, there is no excuse for a voter to be undecided at this late date. There has been more information on these two candidates than there has in any other past election. There have been numerous debates, websites, campaign stops, television interviews, print interviews, roundtable discussions and Saturday Night Live skits. I am quite sure that these people know who they are going to vote for, they just want to wait until the last minute. In fact, in elementary school, these same people would be the last ones to eat their lunch or a piece of candy, and then when everyone else was finished, they'd mockingly wave their food in front of everyone to feel special. That behavior isn't cute when you get older.

I'd also like to add that if you black people riot if Barack loses, or get overly rowdy and out of control if he wins, I will be very disappointed in you all. As big of a milestone as his presidency will be, you can still be excited and hopeful without losing your damn mind; and if he loses, you still have to work, you still to focus on voting on the local level, and rioting gets you nowhere but in jail. Or if you're in Los Angeles, perhaps rioting will net you some new items for your house. But still..behave yourselves.

I would like to dedicate this particular blog entry to the song I am going to post below. It got me through my arduous run this morning. And yes there is foul language

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

I have two work complaints.

One, I get in early, and I see that I have an email from the head of the "birthday committee" asking me to donate $10 for yet another birthday extravaganza. Apparently, the birthday girl requested a specific store from which to receive a gift card and now we have to fall in line and donate, and frankly I resent that shit. Now, I have to walk an interesting tight rope here, because the people at my job were nice enough to send me a beautiful flower arrangement while my lady was in the hospital, and I was thankful for that. But that's different. I wasn't in the hospital lobbying for a gift and telling them what kind of arrangment I wanted, they did it out of the goodness of their collective hearts. But with this gift card bullshit, my hand is being forced, and I just think its ridiculous. I'm sure my job, or anyone reading this thinks I am cheap, but really I am not. I just think a birthday donation should be voluntary, as opposed to the dictated at 7 in the damn morning.

Second complaint. Due to my lady's health, and a couple of my personal doctor appointments, I have had to leave work early on several different occasions recently. I try to tell my boss in advance, but sometimes things come up, and I have to tell her at the last minute. If you recall, I dropped my urine off yesterday morning, but they didn't tell me until 3 that afternoon, that they needed blood too. So I told my boss, I needed to leave a bit early, and she said it was cool. I repeat, she said it was cool. She then told me to inform my co-worker as well, and I have no problem doing that, because we work closely together.

So, I tell this relatively new dude that I am leaving early, and this is what he does. First he looks at the clock, then he gives me this dumbass smirk and says, "Maybe on Friday I should give blood, so I can leave early too", and instantly I wanted to smack him dead across the face with my genitals; however, since I was fasting yesterday, I took the high road (shoutout to Denny Green) and I just walked away. This isn't the first time this ass clown has said something smart when I needed to leave early. One time I had to leave, and he comes in my office asking me if he can take a quick smoke break before I leave him in the office alone. I said sure thing, and I left right behind him. He is not my boss, I tell him shit out of common courtesy, and his reactions are way out of bounds. The problem is, I don't know how to suppress my Rashad-ness enough to tell him in a classy way, rather than flipping out and possibly losing my job. I'm open to suggestions though.

I started a blog that is strictly dedicated to me getting svelte. I won't link it here, but if you look to your right with the other list of blogs, I'm sure you can figure out which one it is (Operation Svelte). Maybe I'll inspire someone to get of their out of shape/fat/overweight/mildly overweight ass and start working out.

I cursed a lot in this entry, but I am not apologizing.

Monday, October 20, 2008

I am going to assume that no one who has been reading my blog the past couple of days, appreciates the fact that I have discussed my urine and the container it has been deposited in at great length; however, I am happy report that today officially ends the "urine chronicles". After I made my last deposit this morning, I combed through my apartment looking for a nice shopping bag to house the package, and I finally found a nice sized grocery bag. Then I braved the January like morning temperatures and I made the 10 minute walk from my apartment to LabCorp. While I was en route, I thought about how the cold temps would affect the package I was carrying; I thought about what would happen if I dropped it and it spilled all over the mean streets of NW Washington DC; I also thought about how stupid I felt, but I finally got to the LabCorp and made the dropoff. The lab technicians acted like they couldn't touch the container, and they made me put it down, sign a sheet, and then I left End of story. Hopefully all is well and I am still healthy.

Colin Powell needs to start entering some of these Poker competitions, because I swear he would win every time. Then again, he probably would find a politically correct reason not to get involved. Never in my life have I seen a man who gives more ambiguous answers to seemingly mundane and easy questions. Even when he was announcing his endorsement of Obama, he deftly sidestepped the clear cut answer, until he was good and ready to reveal his decision. Then he spent the rest of the interview giving answers without really answering the questions, and he did it all with a straight face, with the occasional smirk or smile. There was a time when I thought he'd be a great president, but now I just want him playing poker, and giving me his winnings.

And today is my ladyfriend's first day back to work, since losing the baby. If you have a spare moment, send a prayer up for her, because I want it to go smoothly for her.

Urine, Colin Powell and prayers...just a typical Monday morning.

Sunday, October 19, 2008

From 7:50 am today to 7:50 pm tomorrow, I will be urinating in this container. This is probably definitely too much information for me to be typing in the blog, but I crossed that threshold a couple years ago, and frankly I cannot turn back. I have gone in a cup before, but never have I had to go in a jug like this. I don't usually have aim issues, but who knows what could happen in this type of circumstance. I have to leave the apt to cover some basketball related issues today, and I'm wondering do I: a)Leave this monstrous jug at home and just hold it until I come back or b)Lug this thing around like luggage, and hope no one asks me why I am transporting an impressive jug of urine. This should be interesting...

If you aren't a sports fan, then you missed a hell of a night last night. First the Boston Red Sox continued their improbable run, by beating Tampa Bay and forcing a game 7, and then Bernard Hopkins beat an undefeated champion named Kelly Pavlik in convincing fashion. I know I drove my lady crazy by basically standing up in the living room while this was going on, and flipping back and forth like a mad man. But it was well worth it.

Now if you excuse me, I have a jug to fill.

Saturday, October 18, 2008

I don't know when it happened, but I realized today that I am ill-equipped to shop for any type of clothing without my lady in attendance. Since the temperatures have dipped a bit, I thought it would be mighty black of me to purchase a fall jacket of some sort. I have a winter coat, and some blazers/sportscoats, but I still covet that perfect fall jacket. I briefly looked online at some things, but me being the professional shopper that I am, I thought a TRUE measure of whether a coat is Rashad-worthy or not, would only come from touching the jacket and trying on. So, about 2 hours ago I set foot outside my apartment hoping to come home with a fall jacket. Not so much.

I walked around about 3 or 4 different stores, and instantly I felt as if an anxiety attack was going to overtake me. There were so many people, so many options, and I just couldn't function. Every coat I tried on seemed to look funny on me in some way, when in reality I just needed my lady's opinion. I mean sure there are women working in men's departments to make you feel better, but I don't trust them. I think they prey on clueless people like me, so that just added to my paranoia. At one point I had 3 fall jackets in my hand that could have possibly made the cut, but ultimately I just put them down(in the wrong spot I might add). I did buy two sweaters, so it wasn't a total loss, but no jacket. Meanwhile I just talked to my lady, and her and her sister made a killing while shopping. Its no fair.

When I was single, I would recruit whoever I was dating at the time, and they would assist me in my clothes quest, which was great. Unfortunately, I didn't like these women enough to keep them around, and although I moved on, my wardrobe would suffer greatly until the next woman came along. I am not one of these men who is blessed with a keen sense of fashion. I am a good writer, that's my deal. Clothes? I dont know jack. If it were socially acceptable, I'd wear jeans and a T-shirt everywhere i went. Fortunately for me, I have a good woman who makes excellent decisions for me in the clothes department. Never again will I get too big for britches and do this without her.

Now, if you excuse me, I have a baseball game, some college football and a boxing match to watch. But before I go, please read my article here.

Every now and then someone turns me on to a new artist, and I tend to acquire any and everything by this artist to learn more about them. This month, that artist is Jeff Beck. How did this happen you might ask? One day a few weeks back,I was listening to Stevie Wonder's, "Looking for Another Pure Love", and I noticed at the 2 minute mark of that song, Stevie says, "Do it Jeff!" So I put on my detective hat, figured out it was Jeff Beck, and I've been swinging from his jock ever since. So, I suggest that FIRST you listen to Stevie's song, then listen to the song I'm linking below.

Cause We've Ended As Lovers - Jeff Beck

Friday, October 17, 2008

I don't know if you are a Chuck D fan, but I am, so I'm posting this video:

So would you like to read how sports can bring a couple together? Last night was a rough one for my lady and I. We weren't arguing, but we were sniping at one another. It was the kind of thing that could have definitely escalated into an all out war if drastic measures weren't taken. To make things much worse, our favorite sitcom (The Office) picked THIS week of all weeks to have a show about babies, so that just made the mood that much more tense and uncomfortable. After our show was over, I casually turned to the baseball game, and I noticed that the Red Sox were getting spanked.

So my lady and I were watching this boring Red Sox game in complete silence, and after awhile, I decided to go over to where she was sitting and patch things up and I did. This is hardly the time for us to be having any type of disagreement, so I wanted to diffuse the situation before the jihad was upon us. Well not even five minutes after we made up, the Red Sox started to come back. Initially they were down 7-0, and less than an hour later they tied and eventually won the game. By this time, my lady and I were totally into the game, and any hint of dissension had disappeared. And while I would certainly love to take all the credit here, or even give my lady some credit I simply cannot. I owe this all to baseball, specifically the Red Sox. I hope they beat Tampa, and eventually defeat Philly(sorry Lex).

And now I will do my best to disgust my 4 readers. When I had my physical two weeks back, one of my urine tests came back a bit irregular. As a result, I have to do a 24 hour creatinine clearance, which basically means I have to pee in a jar all damn day, before dropping it off to the lab for testing. So this means while I am watching my customary 3 to 4 football games on Sunday, I cannot enjoy a beer or a glass of wine. After I spend all day depositing my urine into this damn container, I have to carry this about four blocks from my house to the lab. How's that for a Monday morning commute? And who is this lucky person who gets to sift through my glorious urine looking for god knows what? Good times!

One more rant for this Friday morning. Who are these people who eat egg salad sandwiches? Who bites into one of those and says, "Damn this is the taste I've been waiting for all day?" They look nasty, they smell nasty, and I can only imagine the type of horrid side effects this sandwich induces. My former officemate used to eat these from time to time, and it simply blew my mind. I don't care what kind of condiments and sides you put on and around that sandwich, it is nasty. In fact, if I ever see one in my office fridge, I am stepping on it, then quietly throwing it away. There's no room in a civilized society for these disgusting sandwiches. Chik-fil-A is better for you anyway.

Thursday, October 16, 2008

When I was 11 years old and living in Newtown, Connecticut (where Bruce Jenner went to high school) I had a paper route. I delivered the local newspaper to about 15 different homes in the area, and since I was the only black kid on the block, this was a pretty big deal to have that level of responsibility. Each and every morning I would wake up, get on my bike, and put the newspapers on the front porch of each customer I had. Sure I could have just thrown it on their lawn, but I was striving for a higher level of customer service. I would gently place the newspaper in between the screen and the front door, so that when the customer opened their door the paper would gently fall into their hands.

Anyway, the street that I lived on was a steep hill and my house just happened to be halfway up this hill. So I would turn out of my driveway and do all my deliveries up the hill, then I would pedal my bike as fast as I could down the hill at world record speed and do the rest of my deliveries. One of my customers had this dog named Jake who lived at the top of the hill. For some odd reason, Jake's owners never tied him up, so he would run and roam freely throughout the neighborhood, yet he would never run away(aka voluntary slavery). Jake loved to jump on me, playfully take my newspaper, and put his wet nose all in my face. However, when I would race my bike down that monstrous hill, Jake's demeanor would change like David Banner with high blood pressure

As long as I stayed even with Jake, he would playfully bark at me as we swiftly went down this hill. But as soon as I would pass him on my bike, his playful barks would turn into mean growls and snarls, and he would literally try to run into my bike. As soon as I slowed down, he would turn friendly again, and then sometimes I would speed up my pedaling, and again the Cujo in him would resurface. After awhile, I would just let Jake win our downhill races out of fear that he would eat me(that's what she said). So why do I mention this?

During last night's presidential debate, John McCain appeared to be perfectly normal as long as he was getting no push back from Barack Obama on an issue. But as SOON as Obama said something that got under his skin, McCain's whole body language would change into something that quite frankly scared me. He would start smiling the way a touchy feely uncle does when he's left alone with kids. Then that smile would disappear, and his whole body seemed to tense up and prepare for battle..almost like he wanted to body slam Obama. And finally, he would slowly settle down, utter a subtle insult that sandwiched in between a couple "my friends" and he would calm down. This happened at least 5 times last night, and my lady and I looked at each and said, "This dude is crazy". Obama's demeanor rarely changes, although that does NOT necessarily mean that his crazy capability is non-existent, it just means he has sense enough not to show it when the presidency is at stake.

That was a lot of rambling I just did...

Anyway, my main man jazzbrew has a blog I think you should check out. And speaking of jazz..

Branford Marsalis Trio - Cherokee

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Yesterday was my first day back at work in a week, and I can best characterize my day as 8 hours of hell. First and foremost, I had not been separated from my lady for that long in about 8 days, so I was having serious withdrawal symptoms. I felt like I was letting her and myself down by not staying home with her another day to take care of her, although she kept assuring me she was fine. Then while I was at work, I kept messing up big time. It was taking me too long to complete tasks, I had to get clarification three and four times on things that I should have known instantly; I had numerous emails to navigate through, and I was drawing a blank on the proper response; I sneaked in about 2 or 3 crying sessions, and then I had to hurry up and clean up the tears so no one asked me if I was ok and felt sorry for me. Last but certainly not least, I had not been to the barber in almost 2 weeks, so I was looking like Ricky Williams. And I did not even mention my doctor's appointment earlier that morning, when my doctor told me to lay off the red wine for 3 months. I need today to be at better day.

Between being at the hospital last week and resting at home this week, I do believe that I have seen the Oprah Winfrey show at least 4 times. The topics ranged from money to health to Chris Rock to Ben Stiller, and I sat there with my lady (and sometimes her sister) and watched them all, totally ignoring the unspoken oath I had taken with men all over the world never to watch an entire episode. I still think the show is a bit boring and over the top, but man what I wouldn't do to get on Oprah for just a 15 minute segment. Ideally I would have a book that I had just written, and it would have caught the eye of someone on Oprah's staff, and they'd convince her to have me on the show. I would push my book,, my blog, and any other body of work friends of mine had produced. Who knows if I would reach my full 15 minutes of fame, but it is certainly worth a try.

I know I did this already, but I want to thank everyone again for being so supportive during this difficult time. Most of you who read this blog have never even met my ladyfriend, and those of you who have met me have probably been annoyed with me for one reason or another, and I don't exactly make it easy to be my friend sometimes. Still, people showed love, avoided asking me deeply probing questions, sent up prayers and made this ongoing grieving process a bit better. That is touching and I appreciate that. I promise to minimize the amount of sappy shit I write on the blog from now on too. I need to have some areas of my life that are untouched by what happened, and I think the blog will be the first one from now on (I know I'm not supposed to end sentences with a preposition, but I'm an English major I can do that, and you cannot).

Kurt Elling - Undun
Mr Elling is one of my favorite jazz singers right now, so I'm sharing a live version of this song. Perhaps you'll like it too

Tuesday, October 14, 2008

My friend Michelle is one of the few people I know who has actually written a book. Its called Blues Empress in Black Chattanooga. Buy it, read it, review it, and all that jazz.

Monday, October 13, 2008

I have grown accustomed to writing down 90% of my feelings surrounding any and every subject that comes in my head, and that's what I love about this blog. But this current situation is much different and way more personal. I have sat down at this laptop many times over the past couple of days wondering what I can write, and wondering if I at least wrote something down, would it alleviate this daily pain and crying, but I stop short. I'm just not ready to totally open up about this yet. The fire last year was bad, but those were possessions lost, and I knew that in time, I would replace most of them. And while I'm sure my lady and I will try again at some point to have another child, right now it just hurts beyond words to see her hurting as much as she is. That's an image you simply don't shake with words of encouragement and the promise of replacement possessions. For 5 months we made plans for this boy, and now just like that he's gone, but the pain and memories just stick around. So just bear with me here, and if you are religious pray for us. If you're a Bill Maher clone, and religion isn't your thing, then just say something nice, I'm sure it'll have the same effect.

Saturday, October 11, 2008

I needed this laugh, hopefully it'll make you laugh too:

Friday, October 10, 2008

I just want to thank everyone for their calls, emails, and texts during this time. I really do appreciate it.

Tuesday, October 07, 2008

I really don't want to write or discuss this, but given that I have been so vocal about this topic recently I kind of have to at this point. My lady had a miscarriage, and we will not be having a baby boy after all. For obvious reasons I won't be blogging for awhile, and I ask that you keep both of us in your prayers.
Some Tuesday musings..

If you have children, or if you have sibling under 18, or a nephew or a niece, or if you are in some type of mentoring program, you should take that child to see the movie, The Express, which is a story of the short life of Ernie Davis. Kids today don't always know what it means to have to struggle, fight, and work hard to achieve, and maybe that's a sign of progress. Still, it never hurt a kid to see an inspirational story, and you throw in a bit of sports, you got yourself a damn good movie experience. I'll be taking my son this weekend.

I really wish there were some type of athletic event on the telly tonight, so I would not feel compelled to watch the 34th presidential debate. It would be different if I thought the current economy was going to be the star of tonight's proceedings, but I know there will be snark, cynicism, smirks and personal attacks. It's the equivalent of Terrell Owens bitching and moaning about his catches, when the bigger issue is the team's loss and their overall record. You'd think by now, candidates would understand that personal attacks may get you minor points in the polls, but overall it turns folks off. I don't know who the moderator is tonight, but whoever they are better do a good job of reeling both candidates in

De La Soul is one of my top 5 hip hop groups of all..period. My dad bought me 3 Feet High and Rising
on the way to journalism camp back in '89, and since then I have been hooked. And while they don't sell like the mainstream b.s. you hear on the radio now, they still release clever, thought-provoking music. So imagine my horror when they were honored last night on VH-1, and the first four rows(at least) did not know ANY of the words to De La's song. There were at least 5 songs done either by De La, or another group paying tribute to them, and the part of the crowd I saw, couldn't even fake mouthing the words. There is no excuse for that, especially when you are at a tribute show and you have planted your ass in the first few rows. Perhaps I'm throwing too much of a fit here, but I knew all the words dammit.

De La Soul - Stakes Is High:

Monday, October 06, 2008

The new guy at my job has been here for about two weeks, and I have not had a single solitary complaint about him until now. He does this thing when he comes up in my office without asking if I'm busy or in the middle of something, and he just starts talking and asking questions. I can be on the phone, typing something, in deep thought, and it simply does not matter to him. So today, not only does he just bust in my office, but he violates my personal space in the worst way. Now its bad enough when another man is all up in your face, but the situation is augmented when the man in question smokes cigarettes like Andrew Dice Clay. So here he is trying to talk about work-related issues with me, and he's two inches from my face, and all I am doing is eyeing the pack of Trident gum on my desk, wishing I could use the Force or a Jedi Mind Trick to get it in his mouth(that's what she said). Thankfully he got up and left my office after 10 minutes or so, but not before thoroughly disrespecting my nose hairs. I'm not sure whether he's googled me and found my blog online, but if he has, and he's reading this..sorry bro, but this was just too much of a violation for me NOT to speak on it.

And I am well aware that my beloved Eagles not only lost to the Washington RacistNames, but we are in last place. I can take my medicine like a man.

Sunday, October 05, 2008

Every now and then I'll hear a song or a part of a song that moves me so much, that I feel compelled to waste a paragraph or two in my blog discussing it. I do believe the last time I felt this way, I wrote a little blurb on Marvin Gaye's "I Want You", and as stupid as I felt writing it, I look back on it with love and appreciation now. So this morning I am sitting here reading my Sunday Washington Post, and the Michael Jackson song, "Stranger in Moscow" comes blaring through my headphones, and I was inspired to write about the greatness of this song.

In all fairness, I have to preface this explanation by saying I am the biggest heterosexual Michael Jackson fan on the planet..within reason. I have all of his music, I am working on getting all of his recordings with the Jacksons/Jackson 5, and if he released a CD today, I would buy it without having heard a single, solitary song. Matter of fact, if he announced he were going on tour right now, I would spend insane amounts of money to be there in the front row. I will NOT however cry when I see him, stutter and faint if I meet him person and shake his hand, or appear at a molestation trial while he dances on a car. A man has limits goddammit.

The song starts very innocent and quiet. First you hear a rain storm, then you hear Michael beatboxing over the beat for about a minute or so, before the main beat comes in. Its actually kind of cool, because all of the other instruments slowly come in during this time, and then Michael Jackson starts to sing.

Now I don't know about you, but MJ is at his best when he sounds like a girl, and I mean that in a respectful way. When he attempts to make his voice more gruff and masculine, it just sounds all wrong(like Palin in a debate). In this particular song, MJ's voice sounds about as girly and young as it ever has, and it sounds absolutely perfect over the beat.

MJ wrote this song when he was on tour in his hotel room while in Moscow, and he just felt absolutely lonely (kids in Moscow have to got bed early I guess). So he was so alone that he took out his pen and wrote this song in less than an hour, and it appeared on his HIStory cd two years later. I mention this because the overall tone and mood of the song is pretty dark. MJ spends the entire song telling the listener how lonely he is and how the press and KGB won't let him be. Halfway thru the song, there is a piano solo, that enhances the sad and dark mood of the song. Then towards the end of the song, the mood changes.

Instead of sounding lonely and lost, MJ switches up the mood of the song to downright anger. He's not yelling, but you can definitely hear the urgency of this situation in his voice, yet he manages not to overdo it the way I mentioned it earlier. This part of the song only lasts about a minute, but it serves as a stark contrast to the rest of the song, and it fits perfectly. After that mini-rant, the piano comes back in and ends the song. Finally, the song ends with a man speaking in Russian, which is a nice touch I guess, but I find it a bit over the top. The song is great in my eyes without it. This is my second favorite MJ song, with the first being a tie between Billie Jean and Dancing Machine.

So, I have wasted all these paragraphs on Michael Jackson and this great song, so perhaps I should link it up on the site.

Saturday, October 04, 2008

I'll keep this short and sweet. I just got word, that I have an official press pass to cover the Washington Wizards home games this season. To quote my main man Ryan, I am stoked. I shall celebrate by going out and buying myself a pocket watch.

Friday, October 03, 2008

So, I watched the debate and the predictions I made yesterday were not totally off the mark. Palin did not win, but she exceeded the painfully low expectations she created for herself, by coming off as semi-competent. Allow me to demonstrate:

Gwen Ifill - What is your stance on when we should use nuclear weapons

Palin - Gwen, we should use them. But can I talk about the giraffes I saw in Alaska? Obama and Biden have not seen them, and frankly, they cannot be mavericks like McCain and I until they have.

Palin repeatedly dodged questions, and hyped up Alaska, like she was still running for governor. She resembled a student who had crammed the night before, and was eager to use ALL of the info they learned in a limited amount of time. I thought Biden was decent, and specific, but at times he seemed to be pushing his agenda ahead of Obama's, which isn't surprising given his behavior leading up to this debate.

At one point during the debate, I stopped and asked myself a series of rhetorical, yet pointed question, "Why am I watching this?" "What if Palin has to take over the presidency?", "When will Gwen Ifill get a new hairdo?", "Does Joe Biden want to sleep with Palin" get the point. Besides, the passing of this new bailout bill pretty much upstages any momentum either party has, which is how I like it. Enough politics, I am boring myself.

that's all for now

Thursday, October 02, 2008

I mean how could not watch tonight's vice-presidential debate? This is a comedic gold mine.

On one side you have Joe Biden, who in the past month alone has openly disagreed with Obama, has gotten his past presidents mixed up, and just recently said that Ms. Clinton was more qualified to be the Vice-Presidential selection. Not only that, but Senator Biden just has an overall smartass aura about him.

And then on the other side, you have Ms Palin, who gives answers the way I used to write papers during my last year of high school and my first year of college: Long, extremely vague, and only a hint of intelligence in there. Just like Biden, the longer she talks, the more nervous her supporters seem to get. When you throw in the fact that she's relatively unknown still, this has the makings of beautiful debate tonight. I will definitely have some red wine handy.

So, what I think we have here is a New England-New York Giants situation. During the two weeks before the Super Bowl, all you heard was how New England could not lose and they were playing against history, not the Giants. The media questioned Eli Manning's big game ability, and they said that the Giants would be overmatched and outclassed because they weren't used to performing on the big game stage. So what happened? The Giants pulled off the historic upset, the Patroits choked and the media did an about face. I think Palin is going to win handily tonight, and McCain is going to get a nice boost in the polls..until the House rejects this bailout bill for the second time. Then he's going to start campaigning to push back the election. ..

Wednesday, October 01, 2008

I did something pretty impressive(for me at least) last night, that I must share with the blogging community. For the first time since I was a single man, I cooked, washed clothes, and washed the dishes all in one night. I could have added "I folded the clothes" to that list, but my lady is adamant that I do not touch the folded clothes, because I allegedly don't know what I'm doing. She does not let me make the bed for that same reason, but that's another blog entry.

But anyway, my lady was pregnant and resting, so I was thrust into the position of playing Mr. Mom, and I think I did a damn good job. I lightly marinated tilapia in teriyaki sauce, sauteed some spinach, and heated up a bag of brown rice. This seems silly for me to be hyping up such mundane things, but this is huge for me. Now the TRUE test for me is if I would do these things on a Sunday when copious amount of football are on the television.

While I was washing dishes last night, my neighbor knocked on my door and asked for my assistance. She said because it was Rosh Hashanah, she could not turned the stove off or turn the bathroom light on. So I walked into her apartment, and I saw about 8 women sitting around having dinner, and all of them were excited to see me. Granted, the apartment was smoky as hell because clearly the stove had been on too long. Still, I spoke to everyone, did the duties they requested of me, listened to 5 million thank you sooo muches, and then I left. Since I don't feel like looking it up, I need someone to explain to me why Jewish folks can't turn off the stove or the lights on Rosh Hashanah