Thursday, April 12, 2018

First off, I would be honored if you go read about my article about how the Washington Wizards coach isn't anywhere close to losing his job...not yet anyway.

Second, I have a rare follow-up to the last blog entry I wrote regarding my father's judicious use of profanity.

I don't know if I've ever mentioned this on my blog, but my father's girlfriend had an aneurysm last year, and although she survived, she is still a work in progress. She can't talk, she can't use her hands, much of her body is paralyzed and all of this has left my father in the position of being part-time caretaker. His lady is in a facility 24/7, but my father goes by for a couple of hours once a day to check on her, which is quite admirable--for the most part.

Even at the age of 67, my father still has needs which range from primal to just regular companionship and occasional visits to a facility just ain't gonna cut it. He doesn't want to admit this out loud but I hear the loneliness in his voice everyday. I want to tell him to ditch her and the guilt trip that comes with her, but he has to do that at his own pace. So I don't look like an asshole, I suppose I should mention that the doctors have told my father that it is highly unlikely that her condition will improve. Sorry to be depressing but I had to set the scene.

Since his lady entered the hospital, her family has been in and out of town to check on her, and one of the main visitors as you can imagine is her mother (I should also mention that my father's lady is 15 years younger than he is). Prior to her current condition, my father's lady made it her business to minimize the number of times her and my dad met, because she knows how quickly my father can get annoyed. She was also keenly aware at how overbearing and annoying her mother could be.

But now my dad has been forced to deal his lady's mom directly, which has gone just about as well as you could imagine...not too well. She has asked to stay with my dad on a couple of occasions, and my dad says yes the first time and no each and every other time---much to her mother's chagrin.

So a couple days ago, my father mentioned that the mother was coming in town soon, and he was dreading having to engage in small talk with her in and out of the hospital, which led to the following conversation

Me: So when will she be in town
Dad: Some time next week I think
Me: Aren't you going let her stay with me
Dad: Man hell na--I'm sorry, excuse my language
Me: Nah its too late, just say it now
Dad: Let's move on

I can't even begin to describe how big of a smile I had on my face. Ronald Reagan didn't issue a directive to my father to tear down the wall of secrecy that has blocked him from cursing around me, but it is starting to erode organically. I don't want him to start spewing motherf**ker and b**ch, but an occasional ass, f**k, goddamn, and hell would be a welcome addition into our father-son lexicon.

Anyway..thanks for listening.

Thursday, April 05, 2018

My father prides himself on being a very private person. He was like that while I was growing up and that hasn't changed even an iota in my adult life. He didn't tell me he had prostate cancer until his final treatment was done and the cancer was gone. He didn't tell me he was getting re-married until a week before the wedding, then he begged me to be in it. And until I was 35, I never saw him consume alcohol at home or in public--which makes the story I am about tell pretty funny...to me at least.

My dad, my Aunt Sharon, my brother and I were in the car on my way to my Aunt Sarah's funeral back in 2001. Sarah was a former White House cook who lived a long life, and died exactly one year after her husband of 60 years passed away. It sounds like a sad story, but considering she got to be with her husband again, there was almost a festive atmosphere surrounding the funeral. She had a damn good run.

So while all of us were in the car and my dad was making everyone listen to the Temptations as usual, he and Sharon were having a conversation in the front seat, and my brother and I were in the back talking about something. My dad would say something that was barely audible and loud ass Sharon would respond in boisterous fashion. My brother and I didn't necessarily want to hear their conversations, but once Sharon opened her mouth, we really had no choice. That was the dynamic in play in the car.

Out of nowhere, Sharon looks at my dad, and says, "Michael you still like to get you a little taste?"

**sidebar** For those of you not familiar with that particular usage of the vernacular, "get you a little taste" for people in my aunt and father's generation is the same as "get your drink on" for younger/current generations. I feel like I shouldn't have to explain that, but at a Christmas party one time, I asked a co-worker of mine if they could "bring me a plate", and instead of bringing back a plate full of food, they literally brought back an empty, white-ass plate--but that was my fault for assuming they were hip to the vernacular. I shall not make that mistake again. **sidebar over**

As SOON as my Aunt asked my father that question, my brother and I shut the hell up and perked up our ears to hear our dad's response. Up to that point, we had not seen him imbibe at all. We had seen beer and wine in and around the fridge, and we'd also seen alcohol in the garbage/recycling bins, but we hadn't actually seen him put mouth to bottle/glass, and it felt very intentional. Now here was his sister asking to him discuss his drinking habits in front of his previously-in-the-dark "children" (I was 26, my brother was 23).

First my father shot my Aunt the look of death, but she had already shifted her glance out of the window after asking the question, so she was oblivious to his quiet outrage. After a long pause he looked at her and said, "Sharon, do we really have to talk about this in front of "them?" Then she made it worse by first saying, "Oh please Michael!", then she looked back at my brother and me and said, "Y'all don't know your Daddy likes to get him a taste every now and then?"

We started to answer, but then we caught our father's scowls in the mirror, and for a minute we hesitated. Then I remembered that was 20 f**king 6 years old and grown enough to speak up (kind of), so I said, "We know but we've never seen it." There was a bit of a pause, and then my dad started laughing, then my aunt started laughing, and after my brother and I were absolutely sure that this laughter wasn't fleeting, we joined in on the laughter too.

After the laughter subsided, they went back to their conversations, my brother and I went back to ours, and that subject never came up again. Ten years later, my brother, my father, my oldest son Carlton and I went out to eat, my dad ordered a red wine we held a mock ceremony to commemorate the embargo being lifted. Now, he drinks freely in front of us, and we join in, like functioning adults.



Tuesday, April 03, 2018

This will read as a stream of consciousness-like post, so please humor me...

I kept hearing how good Meshell Ndegeocello's new cd was--it is called Ventriloquism--but up until a couple of nights ago, I really had not gotten around to taking a listen. I started it two nights ago while I was in the shower, and I finished it just a few minutes before I sat down to write this here blog.

Meshell takes some of her favorite 80s classics and puts her own unique Meshell touch on them. Some of the songs like Al B Sure's "Nite and Day" and Janet Jackson, "Funny How Time Flies" and Prince's "Sometimes It Snows in April" work like a charm while others like George Clinton's "Atomic Dog" and Tina Turner's "Private Dancer" fell kind of flat in my opinion. But it is hard to ever get truly mad at any missteps on this album, because Meshell's voice is so damn sexy and the music is good.

So after I listened to Meshell's version of "Nite and Day", I went and listened to Al B's version right after that, and it took me back to the summer of 1988, when I couldn't figure out whether Al B was a man or a woman. I didn't watch videos regularly back then so there was no visual evidence for me to lean on, and even though his name was Al B, I thought that was some type of gimmick because his voice sounded like a damn woman---which is why it was perfect song for Meshell to cover. I finally figured out later that summer that Al B was indeed a dude, and his whole album was so good, it really ended up not mattering.

After listening to Al B's "Nite and Day", I decided to stick with that same theme, and I cued up Tevin Campbell's "Alone with You" which was produced by Al B and his main man Kyle West. I was a freshman in college when this song came out, and I made it my business to put it on every slow jam tape I made. I had lots of slow jam tapes but no one to use it on, but that didn't stop me from curating a quality product. But when I look back on that song, it is little weird that 16 year old Tevin (not exactly a pillar in the masculinity community) could make a sexually-charged song that had the proper amount of begging, urgency and accuracy. I think that last sentence danced awfully close to the politically incorrect line, but you know what I meant right?

Anyway, I found myself wondering if Al B Sure sang "Along With You", would that song still have resonated with me and others. Then I found myself wondering why there are no more quality slow jams. These days, there are slow rap songs that lack any scintilla of romanticism, or there are slow R&B songs where the singer "sings" in a rap cadence, which doesn't exactly inspire romance. Although I supposed there is something to be said for listening to rap songs while you and your partner/spouse have hot, sweaty sex with urgency on the stairs.. I get that. But slow jams aren't always about the sex, they are about a mood, a state of relaxation and yes, maybe a little coitus on (or in) the back end.

This concludes my rudderless rant.