I now officially live in a household, where place mats on the kitchen table are a way of life. For years I have dared to eat on a "naked" table, putting crumbs, wine, water, and anything else you can think of directly on the table. I used to go to other people's houses, see their stuck up little place mat existence and laugh at them. I would hear requests like: "Be sure you stay on the place mat", and "Would you mind cleaning the place mat when you're done", or my favorite, "Can you put the place mats out so we eat?". Even my late grandmother was a big supporter of the place mats in her household. She had these giant orange place mats, that were seemingly stuck to the kitchen table. I remember trying to take them off the table one time, and they made this Velcro-removing type noise, and my grandmother asked me what the hell I thought I was doing. I smoothed that place mat right down, and never again did I dare dislodge the damn place mats.

But its a whole new world now. In preparation for my sister-in-law coming to stay with us for 2 weeks, my lady decided to show off and went out and bought the place mats you see in the picture above. Before she gently laid them down, she took a dishrag, and wiped the kitchen table down like a woman on a mission. Yes there were crumbs on the table, but that was only because I had just eaten some Ritz crackers, and I had yet to clean them. Still, she made comments that the presence of crumbs on the table was even more justification for these place mats. Even now, as I type this entry from my kitchen table, my laptop is laying on top of our beloved place mats.

When I showed my lady the place mat picture I planned to use in my blog this morning, she tried to tell me NOT to use it because they looked wrinkled and I just started laughing. So if any of you people are lucky enough to make it into our place mat filled household, please say something nice about them, or touch them, or smooth them out, or something.

Got To Be There (a capella) - Jackson 5

I got my meaty little hands on the a cappella version of Michael Jackson's "Never Can Say Goodbye" and I do believe I have listened to it about 5 times in a row. One time without headphones, and 4 times with, and I can comfortably say that there haven't been too many child prodigies with voices better than Michael. There are no missed notes, no voice crackings, no falsetto to hide his vocal shortcomings, its just a young kid belting out each note with perfection. I double dog dare you to find a singer under 21 right now, who could touch this performance I am getting ready to link at the bottom of this entry. And if you do find a performance better than this, then put it in the comment section below...I won't post it, because it will mean I was wrong, but at least you'll know in your heart that you were right.

Never Can Say Goodbye (a cappella) - Michael Jackson

I am writing to report a man law violation. Men, I don't care what is going on, you can never, ever carry a bag like guy in the picture below. It unacceptable, non-constitutional and un-American. I won't say its ghey, because then I'd be a homophobe, and I think my history shows I'm anything but.

The NBA draft party went a lot better than I thought it would go last night. I was nervous right up until the moment I stepped in the press room, and then the hoops addict in me kicked into high gear. There were flat screens all over the place with all kinds of pre draft analysis. There were some of my favorite local and national sportswriters and journalists, talking about who was going to get drafted where, and who the Wizards were going to pick. And of course most importantly, there was an impressive spread of food, and all the ice cream I could handle. So you see, there was no room for nervousness. Either I had to eat and stuff my face, or watch the flatscreens.

It took exactly an hour and a half, to get someone to talk to me, which is pretty impressive. Some guy left out to make a phone call, and when he came back in the room, he asked me who had been drafted, and I filled him in with the details, and then he asked me other basketball related questions, and I dazzled him with my knowledge..I also was wondering why HE didn't know this, since he had to have done his homework prior to the event. I also met some other people that 90% of you wouldn't know, so I wont even bother name dropping. The reality is that most of what I took in last night, is for basketball junkies, and based on the millions of you who comment on my basketball article, I don't know that you all would be interested. But the point is, I got thru the event, I didn't make friends, but I wasn't hermit man either, so that's a minor victory. The next time I am in the room with this people, I will be a bit more confident. Baby steps. Now if this audio that I got during the press conference doesn't come out clear, I am going to cry.

If you're scoring at home, or if you're alone, I have been propositioned for lunch at work, asked to give a massage, and then yesterday before my co-worker left, she asked me if I went home every night and told my girlfriend how crazy she was...It was at that point I looked at the camera and smiled. If she only knew how I will be trashing her ass in this blog like nobody's business. Although I am curious if anyone I've ever worked with has taken shots at me in written blog format. I would love to roll up on something like that, and link it here in this blog..

And now, because I had a dream about it, here is one of my favorite videos from the 90s..notice how Lalah Hathaway does one dance the ENTIRE video.

Work Chronicles...today at 12:30pm

co-worker: are you ok?
me: i'm golden, and you?
co-worker: i could use a massage
**15 seconds of me giving her the Jim Halpert face**

co-worker: don't you want to give me massage?
me: no
co-worker: it won't be that bad
me: i think it would be
*nervous laughter all around**

seriously man, i need to invest in a camera, and attach it to my neck like those smokers do when they've overdone the whole cigarette thing. then i could have excellent video to back up these stories.

There was quite a lively discussion going on yesterday in the barbershop. The barbershop's version of an intern is named Lonnie, and it is his job to sweep up the hair and run errands for the barbers when they cannot get away. Each of the 10 barbers tips him about 2 or 3 dollars per errand in addition to whatever small salary he gets for doing other things around the shop. Lonnie is about 16 years old, and I have been seeing him in the shop for a few years, and he is a damn good kid. Sure he has a smart mouth at times, but its never disrespectful if that makes sense.

Well yesterday, Lonnie was took a two hour break, instead of the required hour he is allotted. Before he came back from his break, some of the barbers were irate that he was taking so long, because they knew he was with his girlfriend. One of the loudest barbers named Tony, was saying that if this were any other job, he would certainly be fired for such blatant disrespect(surely he hasn't met the people in charge of my intern). Tony went on to say that kids these days need to know right from wrong, and if its not nipped in the bud early, it can escalate. Some of the other barbers felt like he should get the benefit of the doubt, because this was his first offense, and clearly this girl had his nose open. Still, Tony and the barbers on his side, said the first time is one time too many..girl or no girl.

So about 15 minutes into this heated argument, Lonnie and his girl walk in the shop. Because he had been gone so long, there about 4 errands that the barbers needed him to run, and they all got smart with him in the process saying that he needed to be working not hugged with his lady. Of course Lonnie's lady couldn't say a damn thing, because she was grossly outnumbered so she remained quiet, until Lonnie got his errand instructions and then they both left out 5 minutes later. The argument continued right after they left, and both sides continued to make their point. Meanwhile, my hair STILL hadn't been cut.

15 minutes later, Lonnie strolled back in the shop with vengeance, and he started screaming(he must be mid-puberty, so imagine Michael Jackson trying to yell at someone) at the other barbers. He passionately explained that this was the only time he had with his girl, and he didn't appreciate being "disrespected". Some barbers were like, that's unacceptable seeing how we are paying you to cater to us. Other barbers were like you can spend an extended time with your girl, but you have to tell someone you're going to be gone for a long time, so we know to schedule our errands around your absence. Well all this parental advice/scolding was too much for little Lonnie, and he started crying. He wasn't all out crying, but little tears were coming down his face, and I felt bad for Lonnie...kinda.

I imagine my old intern being like Lonnie five years ago, which means I have no problem giving tough love early. But there is a way to teach a lesson without being overly hard..especially since he is a good kid. I'd have told him that he was dead wrong, and if he did it again, he'd be fired, without being paid for that day. I also would not have paid him at all for yesterday, in an effort to teach him a lesson. But when he came in tomorrow, I would treat him like nothing happened. I think that's fair. By the time I left the shop, the barbers had gone on to other conversations, and Lonnie had stopped crying, but I could see the wheels in his little head still turning. I suspect that this is Lonnie's first girlfriend, and just based on looking at her, she probably has his nose WIDE open, and he can't stand to leave her presence. I've been there before at his age, so I totally understand. But he can't lose sight of his priorities either..I wonder how my son will be at that age..

Tomorrow will be one of the biggest days I ever had in my short "journalism" career, and I have been nervous about it all week. The Washington Wizards are throwing a NBA draft party, for the members of the media who have covered the team. And since I have been covering the Wizards on and off for this site, I was fortunate enough to get an invitation.

Now, there will be some members of the media there, who will have absolutely no pressure on them at all. They are veterans, they know all the Wizards brass, and this will truly be a party for them. Then you have people like me. I will be out there on my own, forced to network and make small talk with people who I may be competing and working against in the coming months. I usually don't care about being liked and well-received, but when it comes to something like this, it is absoultely vital that I get my name and the site I am affiliated with out there. I will be that new kid in the cafeteria who is searching for a clique to sit with, and that terrifies me to some degree. On one hand, this is the chance I have always wanted, and that excites me a whole lot. But on the other hand, I don't want any of my Rashad tendencies to overtake me, and mess things up, because I am feeling nervous or awkward. For the most part I have complete confidence in my ability to rise to the occasion and give 150%, but still, I have a certain degree of nervousness that gets stronger as the Thursday, 7:30pm party gets closer. I'm hoping that this is all for nothing, and when I write about what happened on Friday, I will feel stupid for even feeling like this.

Thank you for "listening" to my stream of consciousness.

Candace F. Parker

read my article dammit

I said I wasn't going to write about this, but I simply cannot help myself. In this new position I have taken, I have to share an office with an older woman. She was out all last week, but she is back with vengeance starting yesterday. Apparently she just had some type of surgery, so she's moving slow and complaining about every damn thing and its driving me crazy already. She talks to herself, burps loudly, warns me of other bodily functions that MAY happen, and her attitude is extremely negative and bleak. I have also learned that she lives with her blind mother who has Alzheimer's, and things have been hard for her since the surgery. I go back in forth between feeling insensitive to her plight, and just straight up being annoyed. It is just depressing man, for a quick second, I longed for my intern..I don't know, let me give this some thought. Even as I am typing this, she is reading something that's going on in the news, and I am ignoring her, yet she keeps right on talking. Are the working Gods punishing me for whipping ass on the metro yesterday? Am I being tested in some way? I need answers...and headphones.

I am sick of this Michele and Barack fist bump business. People in bars fist bump, people fist bump at their jobs, and lord knows athletes of both sexes fist bump all the time. I fist bump my lady all the time after sex, and that doesn't get a story on CNN or a seat on The View. It amazes me sometimes what the media chooses to focus on at any given time. If they want to do a service to this country, they should dig up a picture of her in a bathing suit or something. Now THAT is American.

I think I'm cranky today. I stayed up late with my brother, talking about life, hip-hop, and schools system, while sipping on wine. I should have saved that for the weekend...

So, as I am going up the escalator in the train station, this man starts running towards me. Now granted, the escalator was only going up, and considering there was a people comng up, clearly this man wasn't paying attention. But he kept running towards me. To the right of me was a woman with a lot of bags, so I knew he wasn't going to squeeze past her, so I was bracing myself for confrontation. This man didnt say excuse me, he didn't attempt to sidestep me, he was just focused on getting on the wrong escalator and catching the train that was about to pull off. Now I suppose I should have gotten out of his way, and let him by, where is the fun in that? So as he kept running towards me without slowing down, I took my forearm, and planted it right in his chest, and knocked his ass down. He popped right up, got in my face, and was like, "What the f**k is your problem, i'm trying to catch the train?", and he pushed me a bit, which I allowed since I had knocked his ass down. I yelled at him, "You're going the wrong f**king way dumbass, and you need to slow your ass down". He tells me to go f**k myself, then he ran to find the CORRECT escalator, and he missed his train. Serves him right.

Now, I am dead wrong for knocking him down. I think I am also wrong for not hitting him again when he pushed me. But I don't care..I can't tell you how good it felt to have a justifiable reason to knock someone flat on their ass. That is how immature I am.

My brother is in town from Atlanta once again, to interview for jobs and to find housing for his wife and child. He just got in about 15 minutes ago, and the first thing he did was hand me a booklet of picture my mother made for me two weeks after my son was born. I thought I had lost all these pictures in the fire, but apparently my brother had this booklet. The above picture was taken two weeks after my son was born. I was 22 years old, and scared out of my mine.

For all my angst and complaining about going to yesterday's wedding, I can readily admit that I had a good time and it was beautiful. It was in a church way out in Olney, Maryland, and I just remember feeling real peaceful as soon as I stepped in there. Sure I was cracking jokes with my lady about the runner (aka the white carpet that led up to the altar), that kept getting wrinkled by people who were oblivious to it, and the creepy Christian rock music that was blaring thru the speakers. But other than that, I kept focused on the wedding. I think the part that struck me was when the pastor spoke on the various definitions of love. Nothing he mentioned was physical, but it was all about sacrifice, caring, remaining fair and calm and forgiveness. I didn't cry at all, but it forced me to check myself in a few areas, and based on our talk on the way home, but lady felt exactly the same. I wasn't quite moved to attend church on a regular basis(Sabin, I'm going to write that article), but I can say that I am thinking about getting back into the state of mind.

The most memorable moment of the wedding was when the groom got choked up. He was repeating the vows the pastor was reciting to him, and when he got to the "we are now one" portion, the groom just broke down. He literally had to take about 45 seconds before he could continue, and it was moving. The only time I have cried like that unexpectedly, is when I saw my son about 15 minutes after he was born. One minute I was excited and nervous, the next I was bawling. So I felt for the brother.

I must admit I have never attended a church with a white pastor, so this was a different experience. Based on the family members who attend this church, it looked to be a nice mix of both white and black families, but the pastor was white. He had this calm demeanor about him that I liked a lot. In fact he had one of those NPR voices that I wish I had..calm, smooth, very little emotion. Now who knows if I could sit through an entire sermon of a pastor with little voice inflection, but for this hour wedding I was definitely entranced.

The only downside of the wedding, was all the small talk afterwards. I had to meet like 10 members of the wedding party afterwards, and I only know the groom, and even then I only know him because of my lady. As long as I only had to shake hands, I was fine, but some people veered from the script and started asking me questions, and I would just wait for my lady to bail me out. And then there was this couple who was probably in their 70s, who chatted my girl and I to death. First they reeled us in with typical old people talk like where do you live, where did you go to college, what church do you go to(I hate that question..maybe its because i don't have one). But then the husband started trying to tell me about this business he had to help youngsters make money on the side. I kept trying to move the conversation to school, work and the wedding, but he was focused on getting me to pay attention to his damn business. Finally , I just asked for his card, hoping that would end things, but he kept talking. Luckily for me, my lady put her cape on, and saved me from this man's wrath. Those two old people were worse than Wedding Crashers..they came to the wedding to get their hustle on....it was kind of cute, but not really.

We Are One -Frankie Beverly

This stupid pregnancy pact story is exactly why I am so glad I had that sex talk with my son even though he is 10. I am not going to pass judgement on the parents of all those kids, because age 17 is about the age when kids think they know it all. But between being irresponsible with contraception and finding yourself with a baby at a young age is one thing. But for girls and boys who aren't married, have no job, and most likely live with their parents to intentionally sit around and say, "LET'S HAVE SOME BABIES...AND RAISE THEM TOGETHER..HOORAY"...that's just dumb. I realize I am far from the gold standard, but when I was 17, I was a freshman in college, and I know that I was WAY to immature to have a kid let alone tackle the responsibilities of regular sex. Even when i finally did become a father 4 years later, I was still immature in many ways, as was(and maybe still is) my son's mother. So I take that back, I am passing judgement on these kids' parents. This is just sad, and I hope all those kids that will be born to the 16,17 and 18 year women, don't turn into some angry hell raising kids, who shoot me in the ass, when I am 50 and trying to take golf lessons.

I am going to a wedding this afternoon, and I really wish I could bring the laptop. Weddings are just boring to me, and my lady said I don't have to go, but that's just not fair if I don't. I have made her sit through countless hours of NBA playoff basketball over the past few months, so what's an hour wedding really going to do to me right? Besides, I will be there making immature jokes about grown people, and if I am lucky, I will get to strike up a conversation with a crazy family member, who is looking to bail and get to the cash bar. I suppose I should be making mental notes about certain aspects of the wedding in preparation for mine, but that's easier said than done. I am convinced my wedding will be extremely small. I'll invite family and close friends, and then everyone else can come to the reception to dance, drink, and give me gifts..preferably sports related. I digress...

I am quite sure I have posted this video before, but I am going to do it again. The whole song is great, and all the guitar players are legendary. But Prince's performance is both brilliant and arrogant. I should have posted this earlier, when it was his birthday. His solo starts at the 3:32 mark:

As I walked into work this morning, I saw a homeless woman about 2 blocks from my job. She had bags and crates surrounding her, and she had on way too many clothes given how warm it is outside. Her hair was wrapped and in a scarf and she had glasses on, but the thing that stuck out most was the mirror and the makeup. This woman had one of this mini-mirrors that all women seem to have, and she was applying it to her face, as any non-homeless woman would. She didn't care who saw her, or how long it took, she was just methodically putting on lipstick, blush, and I am sure if I had stuck around long enough, I would have seen her full repertoire of makeup toys. I started to break out the camera phone, and snap a photo, but that would have cheapened the moment. She wasn't asking for money or begging for help, she only wanted to make sure she looked beautiful this fine Friday morning, and she did. I found it awfully inspirational. And now back to my regular complaining..

My son's mother lost her cell phone for the fifth time this year. I don't understand how one person (except for my former intern) can be so damn negligent that they lose their cell that many times. In fact, her carrier needs to revoke her privileges. When she loses HER phone, she borrows my son's cellphone that I bought for him, which is prepaid. I put about 500 minutes on that phone in February, and that system was working just fine for both of us. He only talked to me on that phone, and our convos never exceed 5 minutes anyway(we're men of few words), so that 500 minutes went a long way. His mother borrowed the phone on Monday, and by the time I attempted to call him yesterday, the minutes were gone. Now I have to put money on the phone just to speak to my son, and the his mother will continue to use the phone on my dime. I may just have to get him a regular phone, but I have no guarantees that she won't run up my minutes. This is reason number 4080 that he needs to be with me.

this is my favorite commercial right now..only because of the "ACE OF SPADES" which is uttered at the very end...

Yesterday my lady and I were much too tired/lazy to cook to we decided to order Chinese food. I usually get orange chicken, but last night I decided to venture out of my comfort zone and find something else to satisfy my voracious appetite. I decided to order shrimp with lobster sauce. I had a taste for seafood, and I wanted something creamy to go with it, so I thought this was the perfect combination. When my food arrived, I noticed no cream, lots of shrimp, and soup. Apparently in the Chinese food world, sauce equals soup, and I had no clue. This place also forgot to deliver an order of rice my lady requested, so she called to request the rice and to get clarification on this lobster sauce that had magically turned to soup. She informed my lady that this was indeed the correct order, and so I asked my lady to ask them why isn't it called soup, but we got no coherent answer. Then I asked if they could just re-deliver some orange chicken since because 1)it was cheaper than the magical soup/sauce I was stuck with and 2)they had to re-deliver the rice any damn way. They told me I couldn't do it, because I had already ordered the soupsauce. In other words, they were just too lazy..just as I had been when I started this damn journey for food. How's that for symmetry? So I drained all the soupsauce, mixed in rice, and ate shrimp/lobster/veggie combo that way, and it had my stomach hurting INSTANTLY. The lesson here? just come home and cook some damn food.

It would make me extremely happy, if you would say a prayer for my number one mancrush. He just came off a brilliant victory on Monday, and it turns out the whole time he had two leg fractures that will require surgery and extensive rest, which means he won't play until next year. /So this basically means I will be watching one less sport until next year. I'll be sending a giant, get-well card to each and every one of you, and when you get it, please show your love to Tiger.

If you are in the DC area, and you need something to do, come support my man Brandon's party. As per the usual, the probability of me actually attending is 50%.

Into the Groove - Madonna

Even non-sports fans had to appreciate that Boston Celtics' victory last night. Grown men, who all season were giving the media b.s. answers about their emotions and feelings, were crying, yelling and finally letting it all out. Paul Pierce and Garnett were crying because of how long they had been labeled as players who would never win, and on this night, they did it. Doc Rivers was emotional as he thought about his father who had died during the season. Even Kobe, who is usually smug and condescending, looked like a lost little boy as he spoke after the game about the loss. It was just a beautiful experience..one worth staying up until 1:30am, and writing an article for.

The NBA draft is next week, and then basketball ends until late September. Sure there will be summer leagues and all that, but it isn't quite the same. I'll have to dive head first in my fantasy baseball leagues now.

This going to work later business isn't bad after all. I have time to eat breakfast before I leave home, get some sensual seduction, write, watch a full ESPN, and still be 5-10 minutes early for work. Great times. I am also not going to feel bad about writing unspectacular blogs, because based on what I've seen, that sure as hell doesn't stop other people. If I had a soundbyte of that diabolical Vincent Price laugh at the end of Thriller, I'd link it here.

I still haven't wrote about Tim Russert passing..its just sad man, and these aren't sad times for me. Instead, I will speculate about who should take his place. I think it should be the current NBC News White House Correspondent, David Gregory. He's young, he's has a bit of a rapport with important people already, and most importantly, he was under Russert's tutelage before he passed. Tom Brokaw would be my second choice, but he's like 239 years old(a year younger than McCain), and I doubt he could handle the daily grind.

If The Papes Come - A Tribe Called Quest

How you get sized up at a new job

Female coworker (FC): Hey Rashad, you want to go to lunch today?
Her: No thank you I brought my lunch
FC: Oh what did you bring?
Me: sandwich and an apple, nothing special
FC: can i sit in your office with you, while you eat?
Me: Nah
FC: are you telling me now?
Me: Yep
FC: You must be whipped or in a relationship
Me: Yes and Yes, but that's not why
FC: then why won't you have lunch with me?
Me: I like to read the paper and relax and lunch, plus i'm not trying to see you chew
FC: Ok, i'll leave you alone
Me: good deal

I'm not falling for the banana in the tailpipe.

My schedule, my writing and other aspects of my life are out of wack right now. My new work hours are from 9-530, so I'm not quite used to that yet. The train is so crowded by the time I leave, that I think my genitals and ass were grazed at least 15 times..and I got no tip. I don't know if I have fully recovered from my father's day, in terms of sleeping patterns and such. And other behind the scenes factors in my life are on my mind as well. That being said, I hope that when game 6 of the NBA Finals starts tonight, I'll be back to "normal" again, and I'll be ready to write. Until then, expect my blog to suck ass. That's my disclaimer.

I had the sex talk with my son by the way, and it went about how I expected. I talked, and he looked absolutely bewildered. He knew some things about sex already, which was impressive, but otherwise he was uninterested. I explained to him that this will be ongoing thing, he said he understood. He starts middle school in August, and lord knows what kids are doing now at that level. He needs to equipped..so to speak. I hope he waits until he's 18..

I bought new underwear last week, which is not really blog worthy, except for the fact that there is no hole in the front. Most male underwear has a little peep hole for the johnson to breathe. These underwear suffocate the johnson, so when its time for a little urinal action, I have to go through great leaps and bounds, to free myself from captivity. And any extra movements at a man's urinal are highly suspect, so I can't buy anymore undies like this. how's that for tmi?

I can't stand first days on new jobs..the training, the new people, the introductions, the lost, overwhelmed look in my eyes..