I can't say I have a special, year-ending blog in me this year, so I'll just ramble on a bit. I'm thankful that I spent a lot of quality time with my son, I'm thankful I got married, and I am definitely thankful that my writing career continues to take me to interesting places. Next year will bring more writing, more money and possibly a new addition to the family.

So tonight, whether you are going out to partayy, or staying home with champagne like my wife and i, please be safe, have fun, be responsible, and get laid.

Here's an article I wrote yesterday.

And now, my favorite song of 2010:

My son, his new hairdo that I STILL dont like, and Washington Wizards forward, Rashard (a spelling of my name I still DON'T like) Lewis

No words, just Stevie

So my son got in late last night, and he will be here until Thursday or Friday. He's partly here because of the holiday, and he's partly here to attend a two-day Washington Wizards basketball camp on Tuesday and Wednesday. As usual, it seems like he's grown two or three inches (he's about 5'6") and he seems to be in the embryonic stages of puberty because his voice is a bit more husky and he's slimmed down a bit. But there is one thing that is still an issue, and that is his hair.

Now earlier this year he told me he wanted to grow his hair out a bit to grow cornrows, and I vehemently disagreed with it, but his mother shut me down, which she can do because he lives there and now with me. I saw my son with insanely long hair a couple of times, and I cringed, but I had to respect he and his mother's decision, so I did. I even took him to the barbershop to trim his 'fro, out of support. But last night he walked into my house looking like Eric Benet in 1996. The fro has been replaced by little baby twists, and I just think it looks hideous, but of course he likes it.

In my terribly biased opinion, my son (until he's 16) should not have a say on certain things (piercings, tattoos, the amount spent on shoes and grooming, etc). This is the way my father raised me, and I saw not a damn thing wrong with it. When I was 16 and a senior in high school, my father let me experiment with haircuts (luckily no pictures exist), and that's exactly what I did, and it was fair. I had no such autonomy at age 13..I had to get my haircut every two weeks, whether I liked it or not, and those were the rules. My father could enforce those rules because he was there every day (as was my mother).

Unfortunately for me (and my son), I don't have custody of young Carlton, which means my wishes and desires get pushed by the wayside--until he comes to stay with me of course. I want to cut that b.s. out of his hair so badly, but I know that a)he'll be pissed (I don't really care about that) and b) his mother will be even more pissed (that's a lot harder to ignore). But I feel strongly enough about this to risk both of those things..I think

Sorry to rant so early, but its on my mind..

My article on former Washington Wizard, Mr. Gilbert Arenas.

If someone is in the way (aka blocking the doorway) and I say excuse me twice, and they barely move an inch because their conversation is apparently too interesting and compelling for them to move, do I reserve the right to brush up against them with my shoulder and laptop bag to get where I need to be? Because that's exactly what I just did, and I got cursed at and called all types of wonderful names as a result. I'm really really trying to be a better person here in November and December, but clearly I'm not trying hard enough..I took my ipod headphones off, said excuse me twice, and she looked back at me, determined I had enough room, and kept right on talking. My hands were tied man, I had to bump her..tastefully of course.

Anyway.. today, after a two and a half week hiatus, I get back in the swing of things in terms of writing about basketball, and I am a bit nervous. I have barely paid attention to sports since the day before I left for my wedding, and that was intentional. I wasn't burned out, I just had bigger and better things to focus on and I'm sure no one can blame me for that; however, getting back into the swing of things has been a difficult process. Usually I'm checking out at least 30 basketball sites a day, and I am all over twitter trying to stay informed about the Washington Wizards and the NBA in general. I've done none of that recently, but it resumes today, and I sincerely hope that its like riding a bike, because between today and tomorrow, I have to cover a game and write at least three articles. I'm sure I'll do fine, but the nerves are there regardless.

Someone asked me yesterday why I haven't blogged details about my wedding and honeymoon, and I asked them were they serious, and they said they were. So..I'm barely confident about keeping and maintaining this blog as a married man, but I am supremely confident that I'm not divulging any details about the wedding and the honeymoon. I put two pictures up and that's enough. The rest is reserved for when and if you people come to my house..at that point, my wife and I will feed you, make you drink wine with us, bore you with dazzling, detailed stories about our bless-ed event, and then shove millions of pictures down your throat like nobody's business. And then you'll leave our house feeling like you were there, and all will be well..at least that is how I have planned it out in my head. But no details via the blog.

Gravel Pit - Wu-Tang Clan
This whole song is good, but if you're not a Wu fan or if you're just lazy and don't feel like listening to the whole song, just fast-forward to Ghostface's verse, which is just effin awesome. Its not just what he says, its how he says it and it starts at the 1:56 mark:

So today, in what I can only assume is an effort to both celebrate the holidays and our hard work this year, my company bosses are taking us to lunch. They apparently sent an email out while I was gone last week, and I found this glorious email (one of almost 300 I had to sift through) yesterday afternoon.

In the email, we were told that we would be attending M & S Grill which is right down the street from my job. However, instead of being given carte blanche on what to order, which is my what most people who offer to take you to a meal would do (even on dates), our job sent a list of 8 meals that we (7 of us) would to able to order from. I read that email, then I said, "Are you f**king kidding me?" (to myself), and went to my other co-workers to see if this had caused an uproar last week when I was out, and they said it had. Some of my co-workers even decided not to attend the lunch, because they were so offended at this notion.

Now, I've only been with this company since October, which means I am firmly entrenched in the probationary period, so I will definitely be there with bells on..restricted menu and all. But this sounds like a classic case of living beyond your means..Either take us out to eat and give us carte blanche, or be cheap and give us $10 Starbucks gift cards as a way of saying thanks. But don't treat us (especially me) like children and say, "Ok you can order over here, but not over here!" Tell us if we order expensive, we'll have to put out or pay out of pocket or something, but don't insult everyone by giving us 8 options, when the lunch menu has double that amount available.

So since I'm newly married, and I probably still get a pass, I think I'm going to bring a red pen to lunch today, and ask my bosses if they want me to cross out all the things we can't have. The wife said that may not go over well, but I want to at least acknowledge this bullshit with some classic passive aggressive behavior..it beats aggressive aggressive behavior right?

You Are Not Alone (Michael Jackson tribute) - R. Kelly

ok just one more, and then i'll stop. I know how annoying this picture thing can be when its not harnessed

That picture of my wife and I was taken on South Beach in Miami on 12/11/10

Friends, family, exes, lurkers and everyone in between. I will be getting married tomorrow and after that I will be on my honeymoon, which means that there will be no blog updates from me until December 20th (a month before my birthday I might add). I'd ask that you still check out DCist and Truth About It in my absence, because good things will be surely still be written. I will so (not) be thinking of you during this time, and I'm sure you will so (not) be thinking of me as well. The next time I write in this here space I will be a married man my friends..I will be annoying the shit of you with "my wife" references, and you know what? You will like it!

If you remember (and I'm sure you don't) last October when I was on my to workout, I saw Congresswoman Maxine Waters in front of my apartment trying to hail a cab. I stepped in, I spoke to her, hailed a cab for her, and we went our separate ways. It was absolutely random and surreal that I would see this decorated woman in front of my apartment, while I was in workout gear, but I was truly honored.

So this morning, around 8:15 or so, I saw Ms. Waters near my apartment again, and she was sporting the type of coat that would send PETA into a frenzy (she should have bought the matching hat too, because her head looked freezing cold). Now I should have known that a woman of her stature meets thousands of people each and every day, and there would be no way in hell she'd remember me from a year ago. Still, I went to up to her and then...

Me: Hey Congresswoman, my name is Rashad, how are you?

Her: I'm fine Rashad and you?

Me: Very perfect (and yes I really said that). Do you remember me hailing a cab for you last year in this same spot?

Her: No I can't say that I do

Me: It was early in the morning, and you were headed to the airport I think
Her: No I can't say I do young man
**awkward silence**
Me: Well this isn't going like I planned it

Her (laughs): Its ok, you can blame it on the cold

Me: Ok well you have a great day

Her: Ok you too Rashad

Now, I give her props for using my name during her dismount, that made me smile. I also get props of my own for ending on a relatively high note, despite my failed attempts to make her remember me. I give Waters the edge this time.

If you haven't already, I would kindly ask you read my article over at DCist.

My latest DCist article

Kellz JF
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Just one day after officially retiring from the Washington Post, my main man Michael Wilbon has written something for ESPN. Check it out here.

Everyone keeps asking me if I'm nervous about the wedding on Saturday, and then they seemed a bit taken aback or surprised when I say that I'm not. Right now I'm really too busy finalizing minor details here and there to feel any modicum of nervousness. So I'm not nervous now, but as Yoda would say:


But what I am lacking in the nervousness department, I am more than making up in the lack of concentration area. I'm not really focusing on work, working out, blogging or doing any Wizards-related writing like I should. In fact on Sunday, I agreed to write about that dreadful Wizards/Suns game, but when it came time to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard as it were), I had nothing. I'd write five or six paragraphs, and then think of something wedding-related and totally lose my train of thought. This went on for a good four or five hours, and finally I told my main man Kyle that I had nothing of substance to write (which used to happen to me with my old editor, my main man Ryan).

Kyle said he understood how that can happen, but then he used the Jedi Mind trick on me. He said that as much as he understood that I seemingly had nothing to say, he was sure I was up to the challenge of creating something out of nothing. I read that email and was like, "Who the f**k wrote this email, my dad?" But sure enough, I put my head down, powered thru, stayed at work a bit later, and finished the damn article (which can be seen right here). It isn't the best article I have even written, and I really don't like the way it flows, but I finished it. So thanks Kyle.

I wrote all that to say my mind is all over the place, and I really wish I could take this week off. But I'll be fine. Sorry for all the Star Wars references, but I recently found out that Irvin Kershner, the director of my favorite movie EVER (The Empire Strikes Back), died last week, so I figured I'd pepper in some references.

Also, as I mentioned not too long ago, my main man Michael Wilbon is leaving the Washington Post, and his last column appears in today's paper. If you ever wonder why this man is one of my favorite writers, just read this article.

Scenario (remix) - A Tribe Called Quest featuring L.O.N.S.

My latest article

How come you people (all 5 of you) didn't tell me that Pam Grier wrote a memoir?

For the past week or so, I have been taking time at the beginning of both my night and morning showers, to recite my wedding vows. I have made the executive decision not to write them down at all, because I don't excel at reading things off pieces of paper, note cards, iPad, etc. The most I may do is write down some bullet points, but even with that I'm worried that my hands will shake out of nervousness and whenever I show the wedding video to people, they will see me shaking like a madman. That's not the visual I want, so I'm going the Jay-Z route..I'll think about what I want to say, bob my head a bit, and then spit it out off the top of my head..with a little practice of course.

The only problem with this method is that I cannot get my time down. One time I said everything I wanted to say in about 90 seconds, and then last night it took me three minutes or so. I kept adding and subtracting details on the fly and it was just one convoluted, hot ass mess. I'm thinking about getting the cue card holders from SNL to stand directly behind my bride, so it'll appear as if I'm looking in my lady's eyes, when really I'm reading the cards. Pretty smooth right? One way or another, I'll get this down (that's what he said). I have another 9 days to get it straight.

And now, here's an example of my immaturity:


I saw this in the drug store the other night, and nothing but perverted thoughts entered my head(s). Of course the disgusting-looking pictures of food in both the bottom left and right hand corners made it hard to maintain that perversion, but still...

And finally, I've made it pretty clear over the past 4 years of this blog, that I can't stand LeBron James. He basicall defeated my Washington Wizards in the playoffs by himself a couple of times, and I resented that deeply. So tonight when he returns to Cleveland, I hope he fails miserably, and then goes back to being an All-Star another day. My hate is that strong.

Little One - Bilal
I know I've been all over the place in this blog this morning, but I highly suggest you take a listen to this song. Its a song Bilal wrote with his kids in mind, and its beautifully written. It came on my ipod this morning, and I got a little misty..because it was windy outside

I can't wait for this to come out..

So I lost my umbrella yesterday, which meant I had to buy a quick replacement umbrella before starting my journey to work. Unfortunately for me, all the umbrellas at my local drug store where the size of a flaccid phallus, so I begrudgingly bought one, and then I decided to take the train rather than walk to work. I couldn't have people seeing me with that puny umbrella.

As SOON as I got on the train, I noticed this couple kissing, groping and just being f**king disgusting. I'm all for love, and selective public displays of affection, but at 7:30 in the morning? No one needs to see all that when they are en route to work. I was only on the train for 5 minutes, but during that time, this couple barely came up for air. Luckily for me, right before I got off, the train came to a quick and sudden stop, and the dude not only had to stop kissing his girl, but he reached (and missed) for the hand rail to hold on and fell on his ass. I mean FLAT on his ass.

I laughed out loud as did a few others, and then I reached my hand out to help the brother out. And then the following conversation went down;

Him: I fall, you laugh, and then you help me out, no thanks chief
Me: It was funny sir, but you could still use a hand
**at this point his woman steps in and helps him up**
Him: I'm fine a$$hole
Me: Now is that nice?
Him: Is laughing at someone who falls on their ass nice? Its pretty f**king disrespectful if you ask me, but I guess that's what you're about
Me (as the door opens for me to get off the train): You're right, I'm wrong sir. Now go back to groping and kissing your lady, show me that good, respectful train etiquette

Now I heard the man say something else but I had put my headphones back on already, and Kanye West was telling me how much of a Monster he was, so I didn't hear. Personally, I think it was pretty admirable of me to stop laughing and help the man up, as opposed to the other folks who kept right on laughing and did nothing. Clearly this brother disagreed.

I realize no one probably cares about this but me, but I'm curious as to whether anyone else thinks I was in the right. The lady tells me that I need to improve on my public behavior, and I think this was a start. Plus I left on a high note which isn't easy to do.

One more question for you the reader..if you and I were friends, whether it was online, in real life or just via blog comments, would you be offended if I deleted your blog from my blogroll (which is over to the right by the way)? There is one person who I initially added to my blogroll because they seemed relatively pleasant, but their blog entries are terrible and elementary. This is my blog and ostensibly I can do what I want, but again, I'm trying to be a frequent traveler of the high road at this point in my life.. It just annoys me each and every time I see that person write something...

Angela Bofill - I Try

Just last week I spoke of being disappointed that my honeymooon trip to the Dominican Republic had to be cancelled because of ONE case of cholera. I hadn't heard a damn thing about another case until just now when my lady forwarded me this article about the SEVENTH case. Cases two through six flew about as under the radar as you can get. No one has died of it in the DR thank God, but still, the fact that it was not reported is a bit disturbing..

It appears as if we made the right decision to bail and go somewhere else..

Now I understand why some couples do not choose to have televisions in their bedrooms..

I would like to spend a special, special shoutout to the movie, "The Family Stone". You came on the television right as the lady and I were attempting to go to sleep, and despite our best attempt to ignore you and go to sleep, we got sucked into you. We laughed, one of us cried (and it wasn't me), and by the time we tried to go to sleep, it was approaching 3am. Now the lady and I are looking like Thriller extras on a Monday morning--a day that is already difficult when you get 8 hours of sleep.

I attempted to stop by my local Starbucks so I could imbibe a little liquid pick-me-up, but the line is insanely long and they seemed to be under-staffed. The rest of my day will be better I'm sure..

I don't know if you read DCist.com, but you should. Starting with my article on the brilliance of John Legend.

If you did not watch or attend the Wizards game last night, you missed a damn good game. Here's my article.

And now here's one of my favorite SNL skits

The lady and I were all set to take a wonderful, luxurious, week-long honeymoon in the Dominican Republic. We did a few weeks of research, found the resort we liked the best, and made a final decision. I can readily admit that my lady did more of the researching than I did, but I was still right there adding my two cents. Not a day would go by without us mentioning how much fun the DR (as we call in the biz) was going to be.

Then, the terrible cholera outbreak that has been going for months in Haiti, spread to the DR last week. Apparently thousands of Haitians cross the DR border for work each and every day, and one such construction worker did that, and caught the virus. It was caught early and he was treated and released, but still it was scary enough for the DR to issue a maximum health alert.

So the lady and I had a decision to make. Did we just wait and see how things would play out on the cholera front, and not change anything right away? Should we be proactive and just change our destination, since we no longer felt completely comfortable with a trip to the DR? There were lots of questions to be answered, and even though we had gotten insurance on our trip, it was still going to cost extra money to adjust the trip and find a new one. The longer we waited to switch things up, the more difficult it would be to find a new place with unlimited availibility, with flights that lined up blah blah blah.. But we wouldn't just be paying extra money, we'd be paying for peace of mind right?

Well we decided to be proactive, we paid the penalty plus a little something extra, and we've adjusted our destination to a new, undisclosed location. It stressed us both the f**k out, and its a little disappointing, but hey..we are still getting married in less than weeks, the honeymoon destination is still as warm and tropical, and we are happy....BUT

Its been a damn week and there hasn't been another reported(and I do stress reported) case of cholera in the DR. No construction workers, no regular workers, no citizens, no tourists or anybody. Now the little voice inside my head said don't look back, you can never look back, but the cruel, less rational side of me wants some people in the DR to come down with cholera. I don't anyone to die from it, I just want about 20-30 people to be deeply afflicted, treated, and then released from the hospital, so I can say now THAT is why we made the right decision. No such luck yet though. I know that's not nice, but come on, you have to know where I'm coming from right?

Peaceful Journey - Heavy D featuring Jodeci

This picture was taken by my wife-to-be-in-three-weeks this past Saturday night, 10 minutes before we left for the Kurt Elling concert (which was fantastic by the way). When Kurt comes to your town, find a date, and take that special person in your life. I promise you'll get laid. I also promise not to post pics of me often..its vain and a bit corny. But considering my name is in the url, I figured I could get away with it just this once



Anyway, here's Kurt performing the Joe Jackson classic, "Steppin Out". If it seems like I'm on Kurt's jock hard, than I am. Jazz, whether it be vocal or otherwise, is a dying art, and I'm doing my part to keep it alive (as are my main men Neil and Jazz Brew) My lady and I were the only people at the show who were under 40...everyone else was at LEAST 10 years older. That's no good.

My latest article

One of my favorite journalists on the face of this planet, Mr. Michael Wilbon, is leaving the Washington Post for greener and more lucrative pastures at ESPN. I can't say this is a surprise at all, because as of late, he's been doing more television appearances and much less writing, which is a privilege he's more than earned.

Mr. Wilbon started off as an intern, and then he covered baseball, football, pro and college football, the Olympics, tennis, basketball, and eventually his own column. He's basically done everything there is to do as a journalist, so as he did more tv and less writing, I wasn't even mad at him. He, along with one of his best friends (and one of my other favorite writers) Tony Kornheiser wrote and wrote until they had no more to give, so why not get paid for talking on tv and sometimes radio?

I first read Mr. Wilbon's articles in the fall of 1987 when I moved to Maryland from Connecticut. I first saw him on tv a few years later, when he appeared on NBC with George Michael and again on a show called the Sports Reporters on ESPN.

I first met Mr. Wilbon back in 2000, when he was a guest speaker on a panel at the Smithsonian. I waited until after the event was over, and I asked him what I needed to do to get into the field of sports journalism. He told me to read as many sports books as I could by good authors who I respected, so that I could get a good feel for what great writing felt, looked and smelled like. Nine years later when I had my press credentials, and we were standing side-by-side in the press room, I reminded him of this, and he smiled and shook my hand. Very classy guy..and he gave me great advice.

Mr. Wilbon isn't going away by any stretch of the imagination. He'll be on ESPN whenever there are games on the NBA, and I suspect he will start writing on ESPN.com whenever he officially leaves the Washington Post. But it won't be the same as getting a paper, opening it up and reading his words on the front of the sports page. The demise of newspapers continues, but that's another post for another day.

And here is the only pic I have of us together..he's the light-skinned bald headed brother in the bottom left hand corner, and I'm standing to his right..not a good pic I know.

I have nothing of note to say today, but this story struck me as uplifting in a odd way. This kid has both parents in his life, and they both advised to make a decision that will save his life. His reward? He gets to stay on the football scholarship he earned, and get a degree at an above average university the same time. Now there's nothing wrong with single parent households, and if you try to infer that I'm downing single parent households, then you're a jackass. I'm just saying its nice to read about two seemingly (and I do stress seemingly) good parents making a sound decision where their child is involved. Hopefully I've hyped it enough for you to want to take a look. In case you missed me hyperlinking it in the first sentence, here it is again.

House of Pain - Jump Around (Pete Rock Remix)



I don't know how old you people are who read my blog, but I'm 30 f**king 5 years old, and about 15-20 years ago, a Pete Rock remix was a pretty big deal. Yes he was in a group with CL Smooth, and yes he would occasionally attempt to rap. But for my money, his ability to remix a song was his best asset. The Jump Around remix was my second favorite. My favorite Pete Rock remix???

First and foremost, I would like to send a sincere shout out to all the Washington R*dskins fans who are going into work with a heavy heart. My beloved Eagles got way up in that ass last night, and although I was tired, I stayed up and watched each and every minute. The Eagles could lose each and every game that is left on their schedule (won't happen) and I would STILL cherish that ass whippin. As I am typing this, I am listening to Washington fans bitch and moan about what's wrong with their team, who needs to be fired, blah blah blah. Just shut up and take it like a (wo)man. And if that doesn't work, just look at me in my Eagles jersey again.

I would also like to send my sincerest apologies to the three women and two men who got copious amount of water splashed on them, by a DC Metrobus down the street from my job. I was lucky enough to see the bus coming, and I backed away from the curb, to save my precious outfit from getting wet and staying that way all day. You assclowns were so eager to jaywalk and get across the street, that you actually had both feet in the street, and not on the sidewalk. So when that bus came motoring down the street at 30 MPH (or more), you got wet, and not in the good way. In fact, two of you got wet pants and wet tops, and that won't dry any time soon. You'll know better next time.

Finally, if you are free on Saturday night, and you are in the mood for some jazz, come to down to the Kennedy Center, and listen to the smooth vocal stylings of Kurt Elling. The lady and I will be there, but if you see us and try to speak to us or exchange pleasantries, we will walk away from you. But I promise you the show will be excellent, Kurt puts on a damn good show.

My son was here this past weekend (no I didn't cut his hair, but we did trim it down a bit as a compromise) and one of his wishes was to play me one-on-one in basketball. He has vowed to play me each and every time he sees me, until he beats me, and I have no problem beating his ass each and every time we play. If I can keep beating him until I turn 50, then I will have done my job.

While we were playing one-on-one, I noticed four other individuals (ranging from ages 20-25) had started shooting the basketball on the court right next to us. I told my son that sometime in the next 15-20 minutes, they would come over to us and ask us if we wanted to play 3-on-3, and he needed to start mentally preparing himself for that. He said ok but he didn't think they'd come over to us...and sure enough, 15 minutes later they came over and asked us to play, and my son looked at me and smiled. I beat him 13-8 by the way.

Now typically when you have six people on the court, you have three people shoot from the foul or 3-point line to determine who the teams will be, so I fully expected this to happen. Yes my son was at least 8-12 years younger than these other guys (and 23 years younger than me), but he was going to have to hold his own, with or without me on his team. Then out of the blue, one of the other guys said the following:

You guys should be on the same team, we can't break up a father/son team, just pick who you want to run with

Honestly, when I heard this guy say that, I was totally overcome with emotion, and I would have teared up a bit if I weren't on a basketball court full of testosterone. You see my son and I have never played on the same team before, and just to hear someone say that we should did it for me (what can I say, I'm getting older, I get emotional). I pulled my son aside and told him that he needed to play intelligently, aggressively, but not scared and he said ok.

Our team lost 15-9, but it wasn't because of my son per se, we just lost to a team that was more talented than we were. And of course the other team pissed me off by saying that they had to leave afterwards (which denied us a rematch..as a rule, you don't play just one game of ANYTHING. If you win, you run it back as a courtesy. If you win again, you are THE MAN. If you lose, you play a third game to truly crown the king). Still, I was so god damned proud of my son. He made several shots, he played physical defense, and when he got frustrated, he played through it without complaining. As we were headed back home he said to me, "Daddy I thought I was good, but I still need to improve," and I smiled once again.

I told my father about this later that night, and he reminded me that more fulfilling father moments like this are on the way, and I can't wait.

In this Quincy Jones article from yesterday's Washington Post, he claims that the Michael Jackson song "Baby Be Mine" (which he produced) has elements of John Coltrane in it. Aside from the chord changes out of the blue towards the end of the song, I really don't hear any similarities. If you do (especially you jazzbrew), please help me out.

Baby Be Mine - Michael Jackson

My latest article

First off, I'd like to send a shout out to my main man JazzBrew, who recently tried some Dr. Bronner's Peppermint Soap. He now understands the power, the greatness, the tingling..so if you're out there and you've yet to try it, I highly suggest you do. I've abandoned the Peppermint Soap as of late, because it dries my skin out in the colder months. But I think I go back to Dr. Bronner's, and get some Rum and Cake for the skin dryness.

I finally saw the movie The Town yesterday afternoon and it was great. Ben Affleck actually decided to show folks that he can indeed act, as well as direct, so that was a treat. It took me awhile to wrap my head around Jon Hamm being anyone but Don Draper from Mad Men, but eventually I did. I didn't like the ending too much, but I won't spoil just in case there is someone out there who is waiting even longer than I did to see it.

On my way back from the movie, I'd say around 5:30 or so, I walked past a basketball court. Now mind you, it was getting dark, and the temperature was definitely dropping at that point, so it wasn't ideal basketball weather. Still,there was this homeless guy who looked to be around 55-60, on the court with a shopping cart full of clothes, bags, and who knows what else. He had on a long, dirty overcoat, pants, tattered shoes, and something that resembled a hat on his head. In his right hand, he had a cup of something (I won't assume it was liquor, but the face he made after he took one last sip would suggest that it was) and in his left hand he had a basketball.

I watched this guy take 3 shots from the free throw line with one hand (the other hand was clutching the liquor), and he hit them all--without even glancing the rim. He would make a shot, walk over to get his rebound (without dropping the cup), reset at the free throw line, hit another shot, etc. This may not sound like a big deal to you, but shooting with one hand, while holding something else, in hot ass clothes, while drinking, being homeless and fighting middle age, is pretty goddamned impressive to me. Not only that, I've seen this guy play at a basketball court close to my house, and he has game. His lateral movement isn't great, and his defense is suspect, but he can shoot all day long..basically he's Reggie Miller

I was about to record this homeless guy on the court, but my lady told me not to, so blame her for the lack of footage.

My latest article on DCist.com

Tomorrow, it will be exactly a month until I tie knot, which means I need to really be coming down the home stretch with my workouts--and I have not been doing that at all. The combination of the start of the Wizards/NBA season, and the fact that I've been fighting a cold the past week or so, has basically rendered me 0 for November in the workout department. I haven't run or swim since October 29th, which is really f**king sad. What's even more sad is that due to the diminished appetite that seems to come with being sick, I have actually lost weight, but that's of no consolation because I know that's not real. Plus, I'm sure I've lost a bit off my stellar 5 mile run/1 mile swim times.

This morning I was supposed to get up and finally run, but I still don't quite have the energy to get up early like I used to (just 2 weeks ago), and workout. So this means that a)I'm being stubborn with my sick recovery plan b)I'm just flat out getting old(er) or c)some combination of the two. Whatever it is,I am currently struh-ga-linng, I need to get it together quickly, because the wedding and then the tropical honeymoon await me, and I can't be looking or feeling anything but my best. God, this feels like a corny affirmation...but its true.

Of course my sickness and my lack of workouts has nothing to do with me not writing/blogging. I just haven't had much to say, although judging by these few paragraphs (that are basically only written motivation for me) I still don't.

I've put this up on my blog before, but I don't care, its funny:

I need to put together a "navigating in the rain" handbook for my fellow DC citizens who walk the sidewalks, so I can avoid seeing incidents like I saw this morning. This young fellow, who looked to be my age (35) was walking swiftly, talking on his phone, holding an umbrella, and neglecting his surroundings. Had he been paying even a bit of attention, he would have seen the slippery grate in front of him, and sidestepped it like everyone was doing. You see, rule 4 in my yet-to-penned "Navigating in the Rain" handbook, is that you avoid all manhole covers, street grates, leaves, and anything else that can threaten your ability to look semi-cool. I learned this rule the hard way when I was in my early 20s.

So anyway, this guy took two steps on the slippery grate, and then he went down and he went down hard. He slipped, his head flew back, the umbrella went one way, the cellphone went another, and he just lost all control of his body. He seemed to be a proud man, because despite the hard fall, he bounced right up, reached for his lost belongings, and proceeded to keep stepping with purpose towards his destination. Unfortunately, his gait wasn't nearly as strong as confident as before, and he walked with a grimace and a noticeable limp. And then, to add insult to injury, he accidentally bumped umbrellas with another pedestrian, he lost his umbrella once again, and then he cursed at the lady who did it. The lady laughed at him and said, "That's why you fell on your ass bitch"...and this is when I finally started laughing too.

That's rule #23 in my upcoming book..don't curse at women when its raining. Their clothes are wet, their hair is jacked, they are carrying a million bags and an umbrella, and they are just waiting to unleash a barrage of expletives at someone who tests them. Anyway..

This is the first conversation I had when I finally did get in the office...

Co-worker: Hey Rashad, did you get wet?
Me: Nah, I'm good
Co-worker: You're lucky, I got pretty wet, and I still feel like I am
Me: Did you wipe off at least
Co-worker: I did, but I am still wet

Sexual harassment and the fact that she's damn near a senior citizen kept me away from the inappropriate jokes.

And finally, my son has a facebook page. I dont know whether to friend him, or to just watch from afar to see what does. But there will be a discussion about this tomorrow night when he arrives. Two of things he likes are Lady Gaga and Playboy..

Here is yet another Wizards article I wrote.

Layla - Eric Clapton

My article on last night's Wizards game. There are pictures and videos so please click.

I love conducting transactions via craigslist, and then giving people my work number at the Department of Justice. When they call me and I answer the phone, I hear the hesitation in their voice..like if they were even thinking of scamming me, they instantly straighten up and fly right. Its like having home field advantage...good times.

Anyway I just bought tickets for my son and my father to attend the Wizards game this weekend. My son, whose Afro has reached epic proportions at this point, has no idea that I am cutting his hair off on Saturday morning. I know he and his mom want cornrows, but enough is enough already. I'm putting my down. This should be interesting..

And on a more serious note, if you are a praying person (or if you simply have some extra nice thoughts to share) say a prayer for my mother. She's attending a Toni Morrison conference in Paris, and although I shouldn't, I always get a little nervous when she leaves the country..

My nephew had his fourth birthday party this past Saturday in Harlem (shout out the Harlem Bowling Lanes), and I decided to go up to NY for the day to help celebrate(I must apologize to all my NY friends, it was only a day trip, I didn't do any leisurely visiting). My dad and his lady were there, as were my brother, my sister-in-law, and of course my nephew Nazir.

Prior to hitting up the bowling alley, we stopped at Sylvia's for lunch (shout out to our severely negligent waitress). The lunch was especially nostalgic for my dad, since he used to go to Sylvia's every damn day during freshman and sophomore years at Columbia. This was my first time, and it was his lady's first time to, so everyone was happy...BUT

During the waiting-for-the-food-to-arrive portion of the lunch, my father's lady started an ill-advised conversation about the clubs she used to frequent in Washington D.C. when she was "younger". She mentioned Love, Republic Gardens, and other clubs that I very clearly remember frequenting when I was "younger" and it got me to thinking, "How old is this woman?". She kept talking about how hard she used to party, and my brother and I were looking at each other like "this will not end well", but that didn't stop my father's lady from talking.

I could tell based on her references, that she had been clubbing in these spots less than 10 years ago, which means she was somewhere in her 40s (she's 48, my dad is 60). Now everyone has a past, so there's nothing wrong with that. But to bring up something about your past that a)my father hadn't heard before b)was at a family gathering and c)you seemed to enjoy a great deal, is just a clusterf**k of a situation. My dad was quietly taking it all in with the Spock eyebrow.

Afterwards, in a private moment, I told my brother that this woman wouldn't be around next year(c)Craig Mack. Based on the conversation I had with my dad this morning, she was already on thin ice, and this was the nail in the proverbial coffin.

So what's the lesson here? Don't talk at family gatherings if you aren't related to anyone. Just shut up until you are spoken to, and even then, give short, concise answers. My sister-in-law has it down to a science..she needs to put together a Cliff Notes version and hand it out to any and everyone who comes in the family.

Oh and if you're a Wizards fan, go vote in this poll.
Keith Sweat - Something Just Ain't Right

Here is the sign at the strip club across the street from my house. The job of the strip club sign editor is never done I suppose:

Here is my article on the terrible, terrible debut of the Wizards last night.

I said I wasn't going to blog about this, but I'm still irritated this morning, so I have to get it off my chest..


Yesterday, around 4:30 or so, I received the following email from my employer. The name of the company, and some other minor details have been altered..

Hello,

Welcome to the (my company) family and welcome to the (my company) Payroll services. On November 1, 2010, you will receive your first payroll (the word check was omitted). Please select the link below to activate your Online paystub account.

The website address: ***************
The company ID is ********
The login name is your first initial and your last name.

Your temporary password is the first letter of your first name and last name capitalized and the last 4 digits of your ss number.

(It should look like TV9999)

The 2010 Payroll schedule is also attached for your reference. If you have any difficulties accessing your account or have any questions regarding payroll, please give me a call and I will assist you.

Now, when Lovesha (not her real name) sent me that email, I read it carefully, and I was able to deduce two things. 1)My first paycheck is November 1, and 2)In the meantime I need to login to set up my account. So I went to set up my account, and for some reason it didn't work. I tried one more time, and again I was thwarted. I wanted to try a third time, but I figured I would get locked out of the system, so I decided to place a call to Ms. Lovesha.

Now granted, I am still new to this company, and this woman works in HR, so you'd think our conversation would be pleasant, warm and all that good stuff. Part of HR's job is to be that way and part of my job as a new employee is to defer to her wisdom and guidance. That's how these things are done. Here's how the conversation went

Me: Hi Lovesha, my name is Rashad, I'm a new employee, how are you?
Her: Uh..I'm fine
Me: I just got the email you sent about logging in, and I am problems logging in, can you help me out?
Her: What email is this exactly?
Me: The payroll email you sent?
Her: Why are you trying to login now, I clearly said you can't login until November 1st, didn't you read that?
Me: Well it wasn't very cl--
Her(interrupting once): Yeah it was very clear, I said November 1st, I just sent that information now, because I won't be at work around then
Me: Ok, I'm sorry I guess I didn't re--
Her (interrupting twice): Yeah again, it says November 1st, you just have to read carefully
Me: Ok Lovesha, sorry about that and take care
Her: You too

Now..because I am a new employee and I'm on a 90 day probationary period (as all new hires are) I had to bite my tongue and play nice, thus my deferential attitude. That same 90 day probationary period should prevent me from typing this email, but I just can't help myself. I digress..let's go over the list of things wrong shall we? This will be a picture in Highlights magazine, where you had to find the hidden pictures or something.

1) November 1st was mentioned, but my inability to login until then was not. Not anywhere in the damn email. If she wanted us to wait, there should have been a prepositional phrase like "At that time please select.." but there wasn't. She worded that email to imply that our paycheck and our login were two separate points.

2)It seems to me, if she could tell me that she was sending it early because she was going to be out of town, she could have put that sh*t in the damn email. Clearly its not classified info, so why not drop it in there as a friendly, yet informative anecdote?

3)Everyone in the office tried to login too, and I can vouch for the intelligence of at least 50% of the people in here, which means they were hoodwinked by this email as well. As a teacher, I was taught that if over half the class fails a test, its partly the students, but its mostly the teaching. But if 100% of the students failed, I need to be fired or re-trained at my job. Not only does the shoe fit here, but its molded on...

4)I can't stand when someone gets the best of me, and other outside factors deny me my due process, which was to get in her ass verbally. Some of you reading may be mature enough to let things like that go, but I am not--and if you've been reading my blog you know this. I was angry for a good two hours and then I let it go. But then this morning I saw an email from her, and she was STILL defiant about what she meant(as opposed to what was really written). Just admit defeat and wear the Scarlett "L" on your chest, like the rest of us do when we're wrong

Ok now I'll let it go and I'll end on a positive note. My lady is starting new job today, so if you pray, say a prayer for her, if not, just throw your fist on the screen or throw up the Roc sign or something.

I forgot my glasses today, so please forgive any typos you may see as a result of my inability to...but what I DID see this morning around 8:30, was a woman picking up another woman. Allow me to explain..

I was at a crosswalk waiting for the "walk" sign, and I was standing next to this woman with a nice suit, an umbrella and her ipod on her ears. She was an average looking woman I suppose..And walking towards us (disobeying the "do not walk" sign I might add) was a more attractive woman with cleavage galore, short skirt (not a hoe-ish skirt, just shorter than usual for the workplace). I looked at the woman and then looked away (per the engaged man handbook) but I did notice they had a "sharing moment". They stared and smiled at each other, and at first I thought they knew each other professionally or something..but I was wrong.

The cleavage lady said good morning, and the woman standing next to me said good morning how are you..then the woman standing next to me commented on the other woman's short dress, and the short-dressed woman commented on her suit; then they asked each other's name, shook hands and began a conversation and then of course the "walk" sign came on, so I thought my chance to eavesdrop was over...but I was wrong.

The cleavage lady decided to follow the suit lady back across the street in the direction I was going, which meant I had a front-row seat to what was going down. I started walking a little slower, and I turned the volume ALL the way down, so I could hear some of this conversation, because it felt like a pick-up situation. The cleavage lady was in town for some sort of week-long conference, and the suit lady worked at Hanley-Wood, and lived in D.C. There were other details I couldn't hear, but I DID get the money shot: they exchanged numbers and said I hope to see you soon..but they did so with that smile and that handshake that says, "Yeah I am SO hitting that later.." I know this look..I'm guy.

After that, the cleavage lady walked back in her original direction, and the suit lady went into Starbucks with a big smile. The one on my face was bigger though..Now I realize these two women could have been involved in some role play type deal, but who does that at 8:30am? I prefer to believe that this was a real live lesbian hookup that I saw..with no glasses.

Malcolm Gladwell wrote this article about twitter, facebook ,and social media. The founder of twitter wrote this rebuttal to his article. And then Forbes did an analysis on both articles right here. If you have some time to kill, you should read them all, there are good points made on all sides.

This story about Clarence Thomas and his lovely wife Ginny, reminds me of an counter I had with Mr. Thomas back in 1997.

I was in Borders Bookstore in Fairfax, Virginia with my father, we had just wrapped up lunch, and we decided to pick up a few books before parting ways. I surprisingly headed to the sports section of Borders, while my father preferred to set up camp in the history section. After about 10 minutes, I found the book I wanted (Dark Witness by Ralph Wiley) and I headed back towards my dad, who was now standing and talking to this interracial couple.

The man he was talking to was a bit portly, but had a deep, booming voice, and the woman was just flat out unattractive. I know its bad to talk about men's wives, especially when her husband is a Supreme Court judge, but come on...when you see her, the first thing you say is "Her?"

Anyway, as I got closer I realized this was THE Clarence Thomas, and I wanted to introduce myself, but he and my father were knee deep in conversation about various things. I distinctly remember Thomas saying he was shocked my father went up to him, because most black people either a)ignore him or b)cursed him out. My father said he wasn't that shallow, and just wanted to have a discussion with him, and Thomas appreciated that and opened up..leaving me to talk his wife about the book I had chosen. When I told her my book was called "Dark Witness", Ginny had this weird, uncomfortable look on her face and said, "Oh that's nice", and then proceeded to tell her who Ralph Wiley was, and why I loved his writing, and she did not give a goddamn about what I was saying, which was fine, because I was reaching for conversation anyway.

Finally, my father wrapped up his conversation, introduced me as his son, and the thing I remember about Thomas was that his handshake nearly broke every bone in my hand. I tried to shake his hand hard right back, but it was too late, he had gotten the best of me and then some. And then that was it..we parted. When my father and I got back in the car, he told me that while we may not agree with this politics and personal views, the man is still a Supreme Court justice and deserves a certain amount of respect..which is true..

Still, I wonder how many times he's looked at his wife and had the type of thoughts I had this past Tuesday

I went to bed around 12:30 or so, I woke up at 3:15, then went back to sleep and woke up a little around 7am, so to say that I am feeling sleepy is a huge understatement. And when I am feeling like this, what is the best remedy? You guessed it, a Venti Soy Chai Latte from the Starbucks (this story excites me by the way)

So I step into the Starbucks at 8:55, and the line is long as all get out. There are at least 10 people in front of me in line, and 15 more waiting for their specialty drinks to be completed. I made the executive decision to stay in line, even though I know damn well, that I will be tardy for work. An on-time sleepy Rashad is not better than a tardy, on-his-way-to-waking up Rashad. I pressed on in the line for 20 minutes, got my drink, and headed out of the door..or at least I tried to.

As I am approaching the exit, I realize that the line has snaked around in such a way, so that there are a few people blocking my way. Four out of the six people move out of the way, but these two women refused to move. I say refused, because they looked at me twice, saw the sliver of an opening behind them, and decided that was all I needed to get by. Unfortunately, the only person who could have fit through that little space these two women left me is her.

I said excuse me hoping I could get by, and one of the women looked at me, then looked at the space behind her and said, "That's plenty of room". I said ok, I walked forward, my bag hit her in the side, she said ouch, and then the following mini-confrontation happened..and mind you there was still a long line (I'd say roughly 12 people were in front of her)

Her: Excuse you assh**e, the word is excuse me
Me: I said excuse me, you didn't move, I'm late for work, something had to give
Her: Still, you don't run into people with your bag, what are you 12? I'm waiting for coffee here like everyone else
Me: Yes dear, but everyone else in line moved out of the way except you, and you looked at me numerous times without moving, so--
Her (interrupting me): There was plenty of f**king room dude

So at this point I put my bag down by the door (not blocking the exit), I said excuse me, and walked back past the woman, then I said excuse me again, and walked past the woman towards the exit, and put my bag back on my shoulder. The woman fell out laughing, as did everyone else in line (which kind of irritated me, I'm not here to entertain Starbucks clientele). Before I walked out...

Me: You were still in the way, but I shouldn't have bumped you, I'm sorry
Her: Its cool, I'm sorry too
Me (extending my hand): Are we cool?
Her (extending her hand): We are cool

And then I withdrew my hand and said, "Yeah right" and walked out. I didn't hear what she said or if more people laughed.

Yes I am 12 years old. I was a 12 year old, 20 minutes late for work, but wide awake mfer.

The Roots featuring Eve, Erykah Badu and Ronald Isley...

My latest article

There is a Kareem Abdul-Jabbar movie coming out next year, and here is the trailer. I am about to bug his PR person today, tomorrow and every damn day until she lets me get an advance copy to review. I've never written a movie review in my life, but why not try when one of my heroes is the director right? Watch the trailer by the way.

And then after you watch the trailer, watch Stanley Jordan play the guitar

This morning I swam a mile, talked with the ladyfriend, listened to music in the shower, walked in the rain to work, sent a few emails, had b.s. conversation with co-workers and now I'm eating my oatmeal with bananas and agave. I have a full day of work ahead me, and I have a great book I plan on reading a lunch time. But inside my head, all I am really thinking is, "Damn, I really would like to f**k right now.."

Sorry if that's more info than you bargained for when you clicked on my blog, but don't tell me you haven't had that same thought this morning, today, yesterday or whenever. And if not then that's really too bad.

Shoutout to my lady who just got a new job, and will now be working in DC, just 5 minutes away from me.

This past Saturday, my son, my main man Sabin and I went to the Hampton/Norfolk State football game in Hampton, VA. I can't begin to tell you how happy I was to have my college roommate on one side of me, and my son on the other. I'm sure I bored my son with stories of my college behavior, but it could not have been more boring than the actual game, the final score was 7-6. Still I had a great time, and its definitely something we all need to do again.

While we were at the game, Sabin and I saw various people who we either definitely knew from when we were in school or looked vaguely familiar. But there was this one gentleman who stuck out more than the others. I don't remember his real name, but in school we called him Sadat X because he looked like the guy from Brand Nubian. Back when we were in school, Sadat was probably about 180-190lbs or so..definitely not overweight. But on Saturday when I saw he and his ladyfriend walk by, things had definitely changed.

Now let me preface this by saying we all put on a bit of weight as we get older. When I was in college, I weighed about 150lbs, but I was built like a little boy, so I had room to grow--still I understand how the weight gain with age game works. BUT, Sadat X looked like he was EASILY pushing 300lbs, and if Sabin hadn't pointed him out to me, I wouldn't have even recognized him. It was kind of sad seeing the brother like that because a)it made me feel old and b)knowing what I know about how important men's health is in the mid-to-late 30s, he's making things difficult for himself. I had a rough week last week between work and Washington Wizards stuff, so I didn't work out at all, and I felt guilty. But seeing Sadat just motivated me even more to get back at it..

And finally my son's hair looks terrible, and I don't care if he and his mother want cornrows, I'm cutting it off the next time I go down there. He looks like Ice Cube did in 1993, except my son's hair is way more unruly...I can't take it anymore.

Sadat X - The Lump Lump

If you know me, and if you read this blog I'm assuming you do, you know that my favorite writer ever is the late Mr. Ralph Wiley. Well his son Cole, who is an attorney, a movie director, a writer, and most importanly a Hampton University graduate. He told me a few weeks back that he had an article coming, and to look out for it, and he finally sent the link out today. Its about the Georgetown Hoyas, and I believe you should read it..not now, but right now. Its right here.

When I was around 13, I was an avid soccer player, which meant I had practice damn near every day after school. I'd come home from school, do a bit of homework, go to practice, and then basically come home and crash. And during the 30 minute ride from soccer practice back home, my mother would listen to WHUR, which is the Howard University radio station. They had a news program called the Daily Drum from 6-7, where they covered everything from news, to traffic to sports.

The main sports guy on the news programs was Glenn Harris, and I remember being in absolute awe at how much he knew about sports, and how interesting he made it sound. I remember telling my mother that I wanted to be on the radio with him one day, and she did the thing that all mothers do, which was to tell me I could make it happen, and I didn't really believe her. Well dammit Mommy you were right...kind of..

Last night, I was asked to appear (via phone) on TBD TV (formerly Newschannel 8) which a television station exclusive to the Washington DC, Maryland, Virginia area (I refuse to call it the DMV). I was on there to talk about Gilbert Arenas' crazy ass, along with David Aldridge who works for TBD, TNT and the NBA. And the show I was on was hosted by none other than Mr. Glenn Harris.

I called my dad to let him know I'd be on tv (well my voice was), and when I told him Glenn Harris was hosting, he got excited (in a non-sexual way of course). I don't remember anything I said during my 5-7 minute spot because a) I was nervous as hell despite the glass of red wine by my side and b)David Aldridge was so damn good, that he completely blew me away (again, in a non-sexual way). But the very fact that I got to share some air time with someone who I've wanted to be since age 13 (Glenn Harris) and someone whose job I've wanted to steal for a few years (David Aldridge) is pretty f**king cool...to me at least.

If you don't know who Etan Thomas is, you should read this interview I did with him and find out a little bit. He's one of the good guys in the NBA..at least to me he is..

My son told me last week that he wants to get his hair cornrowed. I immediately shot him down, and told him that I didn't like that style, and I preferred a clean cut look for him at age 13. He got really quiet and he told me was upset, so I asked him to defend his decision to wear his hair like that, and he stayed quiet and said he wanted to get off the phone. I told him that regardless of what I say or think, he should always at least defend his side, but again, he was crestfallen and said nothing. I could hear his anger over the phone, but I'm glad he chose to restrain himself to some degree.

I hate cornrows with a passion. They look dirty, and I prefer the clean cut look, but that's just me. I know plenty of people who disagree with me, and that's fine, they can let their son's wear them, I don't like them for my son. As far I'm concerned the father/son relationship is not a democracy, its very much a dictatorships with few exceptions. But again that only works if both parents are on the same page...unfortunately, I have no such arrangement..

My son's mother called me about 10 minutes later, and told me that my son was old enough to make his own hair decisions (I vehemently disagree), and since he didn't live under my roof, the decision was not mine to make. So this Saturday, when my son and I hang out and attend a Hampton University football game, he will be rocking the cornrows and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it..although I thought about taking away his phone or calling lots of attention to his hair, in hopes that he'll feel bad and cut them off. But I've been told that's not right, but still...

Oh and by the way..I get married two months from today..And yes I am getting more and more excited (that's what she said).

We Gon' Make It - Jadakiss

If you haven't bought Bilal's cd, then shame on you. Its damn good. Here is a video for his song, "Restart":

FULL SCREEN
The Sounds of VTech / Bilal: Restart   

I filled out a survey today, and for the first time in a long time (10 years to be exact), I had to leave the 25-34 age group behind, and check the 35-44 box. I immediately wanted to cut my beard and mustache off, so I can at least LOOK 25 again, even though I'm clearly going on 36.

No wonder I'm having a blog-life crisis..

I can't explain why, but I just dont feel like blogging lately. A lot of what is on my mind is not meant for public consumption, so that's part of it. The other part? I've just been enjoying life offline, as opposed to mentally collecting things to detail and write about online.

I think this is partly related to the jackass who was tweeting during my friend Faye's wedding. I kept looking at this guy like man, what are you doing? Regardless of whether he was tweeting good or bad things (it was mostly good I hear) I kept wondering why he couldn't just enjoy the moment of his friend getting married, without broadcasting it to the internet community. Then I thought to myself, damn Rashad, you do something similar, so you can't complain. So that led to me taking a step back..I don't know if that makes sense or not, but it'll have to do for now.

I hear my blog archives are mildly entertaining though.

I wrote this article and this one here, so please read.

But today is mainly about my friend Faye, who got married today in a beautiful ceremony in New Jersey. I got two hours of sleep last night, and I had to drive a total of 8 hours to get there and back but it was worth it. I've known Faye for 10 years, and just like me, she's been through all kinds of ups and downs..and now by the time this year ends we will both be married. Good times.

We need more subtle, but nasty ads like this one.

My son got a 74 on his History assignment, and I asked him why his grade was so low and he said he didn't know. Then I asked him if asked the teacher told him exactly why he earned a 74, as opposed to an 100, and again, Carlton said he didn't know. I then proceeded to tell him that anytime he earns a grade that isn't an "A", he needs to ask the teacher why, and then follow that up with an additional "how can I improve" conversation. I explained to him that teachers appreciate it when kids take an active interest in their education, plus its just good practice for high school, college and beyond.

We were on the phone, but I'm pretty sure his eyes glazed over, but I anticipated that kind of reaction, so this morning I texted him and reminded him to talk to his teacher. I plan on talking to his teacher too. But this is not why I am bringing up this story. Here was the end of our conversation:

Me: So how is your girlfriend
Carlton: Well the girlfriend I had this summer is gone, and then I had a new one when school started but we broke up too
Me: Did you get dumped, did you do the dumping or was it mutual
Carlton: It was mutual both times
Me: You don't have a good retention rate man
Carlton: What's retention mean?
Me: Look it up
Carlton: Ok
Me: Just don't get too caught up with the girls right now
Carlton: I'm not but I like talking to them
****Can't blame him there****
Me: I understand but just keep things balanced, school is still most important
Carlton: I know
Me: Ok, well talk to your teacher tomorrow, and please remember to call me afterwards
Carlton: Ok I'll try
Me: Do you know who Yoda is Carlton?
Carlton: Yep, he's from Star Wars
Me: Well Yoda teaches that we should do or do not, there is no try.
Carlton: (while laughing): Ok Daddy
Me: You can laugh if you want to, but I'm serious, and so was Yoda

Now, I am happy Carlton is getting the full middle school girlfriend experience, and I'm also happy he likes girls as opposed to...well you know. When I was his age, I got NO play because I was shy, nerdy and into reading football and basketball magazines. Its nice to see he's breaking the tradition.

But anytime I can work Yoda and Star Wars overall into a speech/lecture with my son, it is a good.no GREAT night. My dad would be so proud of me. That moment alone was enough to offset the fact that I lost a salary negotiation (by 6.5%) earlier in the day..but I won't get into that right now.

The song I'm getting ready to link below, is GUARANTEED to get you hyped up..it doesn't matter whether you're working out, you're having a bad day, or any of that..its a high energy song that's to be listened to a high volume

What We Do - Freeway featuring Jay-Z and Beanie Sigel