No words today, but here is an excellent article on Samuel L. Jackson from this weekend's NY Times.

Nyles had a follow up appointment with the Ear, Nose and Throat doctor at 8am. Nyles, the wife and I left the house at 7:30, and arrived at the doctor's office my 7:55. We filled out the paperwork, and we were called back around 8:05. They took Nyles' temperature, listened to his heartbeat, weighed the little fella, and then put us in the waiting room around 8:15. The doctor's assistant asked us some prelimiary questions, looked in Nyles' ears, and then told us the doctor would be with us "shortly", and she pulled the door closed behind her.

After 20 minutes, the wife was irate, and she opened the door, then peered her head out, looking for someone to scream on--and the nurse just happened to walk by. As the nurse began to explain that the doctor was late arriving, the doctor walked right in behind her. Of course the doctor was nice, gave great advice, and was out of there in less than 10 minutes, but the damage had already been done, and the wife and I were already pissed. Why get to an appointment early when it will at least an hour to complete it? And why do doctor's consistently get away with this b.s.?

My short term solution? I am going to start stealing items from the doctor's office. A syringe here, band-aids there, a stethoscope, gauze and maybe even an eye chart. Then the doctors and nurses will be scared to leave me alone for an extended period of time, and I'll get quick and efficient service right before I do jail time. It is worth the risk.

Thanks to Questlove, I now know Michael Jackson and the Jacksons didn't do the original:

You have to watch the above video, otherwise nothing I say from here on out will make sense. This will probably only be funny to my wife, since we spent many (drunken) hours on Saturday night (our first overnighter without Nyles) laughing about this video.

1) The part where he is dancing by himself on some kind of balcony is just flat out funny to me. I have mimicked that dance for my wife many times, except I do it with my thumbs up, with no sunglasses and there is plenty of determination on my face

2) I'm a fan of Bruce Bruce (not really) and I'm a fan of Anthony Anderson, but for Kem to include them in a video as his running mates is just odd and completely random.

3) Kem looks just like Lex Steele, which makes the video that much more hilarious. If you don't know who Lex Steele is google from your phone if you're at work.

4) There's no way Kem can pull Goapele the way he does in this video. Or maybe I'm hating.

5)It bothers me when a brother doesn't have any facial hair. Get a soul patch, an Artis Gilmore or something. You can't be running around looking smooth like a seal.


This could possibly be the most inside baseball blog I've ever written. But it's funny to me (and my wife)./

Please let me know if I'm being petty. The background? My manager is calling a 3pm meeting today for everyone in the office, and afterwards, I'd like to meet with my staff to discuss an upcoming project.



My email: After our meeting today, would you mind sticking around, so I can go over an upcoming project? I won’t take more than 5-10 minutes of your time.


A co-worker's email response: Cool beans


My response: Cool beans?


His retort: I don’t mind sticking around after our meeting to go over the upcoming project.


I didn't respond. Am I crazy for wanting some semblance of professional email decorum? If we were talking and he said that, I wouldn't mind (although I've never used that expression, I don't judge guys who do). But on a work email? Come on dude...

In this latest Nyles video, we learn that he can kick off his socks with great skill and speed. I would say something about my wife's narration, but I have to sleep next to her every night.

I am a little late with this recommendation, but if you like jazz--specifically the sax and the piano--then go buy Branford Marsalis and Joey Calderazzo's collaboration entitled, "Songs of Mirth and Melancholy". The title is a dead giveaway in terms of the types of songs on there, but it is awesome. I listened last night and again this morning. That's all for now.

Nyles' daycare is closed thanks to DC Emancipation Day and thanks to an unreliable babysitter, I am spending my second consecutive Monday at home with the youngster. He is currently eating his feet while I am typing this, after being rudely awakened by the loud voice of my mother (who just left). Good times.

This past weekend, my older son Carlton was in town, and we took a trip to the barbershop the way we always do. He wears his hair longer, so he just got a mild shape up, while I got my usual close cut. At the end of his haircut, the barber held a mirror in front of Carlton, and asked him if he liked the cut, and he said yes. Before I paid the barber, I asked Carlton if he liked the cut, and he said yes, I asked him if he was sure, and he said yes again. This was at 10am on Saturday.

Yesterday at noon, when he arrived back home and got off the train, his mother saw his haircut and did not like it at all. She asked my son if he liked it, and he said, "Not really". Two seconds later his mother called me up and started bitching and moaning about why I allowed my son to get a haircut he didn't like. I let her talk, and then I told her that Carlton is 14 going on 15, and if he doesn't like something, he needs to speak the f**k up. I want him to wear his hair short, he likes it longer, which means that HE controls the way his hair is cut, not me. She disagreed, we argued, I won, and that was it. My son knows better, or at least I thought he did. Now he has to use his own money to fix something that he could have spoken up and had me pay for...he'll learn though.

In the meantime, more Nyles

My older son Carlton is coming to visit today, and he's staying until Sunday morning. My mother will be staying with me Sunday, and she'll be leaving Monday afternoon, which means this will be a weekend of family. Young Nyles will be the center of attention, and my wife and I will have to simply move out of the way--which is fine with us. I doubt Carlton will care, because he's 14 and in his own little world. But I do have a bit of an issue.

Carlton has discovered the joys of pleasuring himself, and his mother has caught him at least three times in the past month alone. I don't mind that he does that because it is perfectly and natural to (discreetly) get that done, but I don't want any accidents. Nyles is everywhere and my mother is coming in town, and an ignored, lost or undiagnosed "accident" that is found at the most inconvenient of times could be tragic, and downright embarrassing. I need to figure out a way to tell my son to put a moratorium on that this weekend without embarrassing him. Or he can do like his father and handle those things in the shower, where the operation is quick, efficient and clean.

Good times.

This never gets old...

The daughter of one of my wife's friends reached out to me yesterday, and asked for me some assistance with getting into the sports business. She heard that I wrote for True Hoop, and figured I had some light to shed on how to get started. I basically the exact same thing Michael Wilbon told me way back in 2000: Read as many sports books as humanly possible by GOOD authors, write every day, and be able to talk eloquently about many different sports. He also told me to never ask anybody famous about how to "get on" anymore, and I did not. I told this girl to give me a couple writing samples, so I could see what kind of talent she has. She's only a junior in college (Towson), but she's looking for some kind of break and/or internship, so at the very bottom of her email she attached her resume--and that's when I felt old.

Honestly, college students shouldn't even be able to construct resumes, because everything on there is related to high school, summer internships or extracurricular activities like clubs, athletics, etc. I looked at her resume, and it said class of 2013, along with a whole host of college clubs she belonged to, and I immediately realized that I am almost 20 years older than this girl. The chasm between our ages certainly doesn't seem that sizable, when you consider I can still vividly remember each and every (il)legal, ill-advised thing I did at Hampton University. I still talk to friends of mine, and when we wax nostalgic, it feels like 5-10 years ago, not 20. And it definitely doesn't feel like enough time has gone by for a 19-year old to be talking to me about her college years. I'll get over it though.

The flip side to being old? This little girl in Starbucks (she can't be older than 22) has a crush on me, and she keeps giving me my Soy Green Tea Latte for 45 cents (normal retail value: $5.34). I'll take that all day long..

Oh to you jackasses on facebook, twitter, and other places saying sh*t like "We did it" and "We won" just because George Zimmerman was arrested, please get a hold of yourself. "We" didn't have our son brutally murdered and "We" can still be outraged when and if he walks away with what "you" deem an insufficient punishment, and then "you" will sit on your ass in your living room when "they" start rioting, revolting and reacting to that verdict. This battle is far from over, and I am sorry I violated my self-imposed gag order on this subject, but the rejoicing I've been reading is just a bit ridiculous. Kind of like the people who were happy to see OJ Simpson arrested only to see him walk a year and a half later.

Well, my day with Nyles was not that bad at all, in fact it was kind of fun. We watched the Disney channel, we went for a walk, we watched golf highlights, we listened to Poncho Sanchez and Terence Blanchard, and we read two books: "Where is Baby's Belly Button?" and "I'm Back for More Cash"

The belly button book was especially challenging, because it required me to lift up a part of the page to reveal a (clean) body part of the baby. Nyles was all into the story while I was talking, but once I struggled to lift up a part of the page, he would lose interest and start looking at other things in the room. Then I had to reel him back in by putting the damn book in his face, and he'd laugh and try to eat my fingers, and it was a big production. This went on about 5 times, and the book is only 5 pages long. But we made the magic happen. The other book was full of words he couldn't possibly understand, but I like to read it to him anyway just in case he's a genius.

Right before his mother got back home, Nyles got all hysterical and starting crying, kicking and screaming before falling asleep peacefully. And of course when he woke up and saw mom, he smiled and laughed..little bastard. But overall, it was good times, and I really wish I could maintain my current work salary, while watching Nyles all day long.

Nyles' daycare is closed tomorrow, and the wife is fresh out of leave, so it is just Nyles and I all day tomorrow. We are going to the park, we are going to register him for swim lessons (he'll start later on in the summer pending the doctor's approval), we'll listen to the Tony Kornheiser show, and we'll read books. It'll be a fabulous time I'm sure..wish me luck.

The latest article I contributed to. The Wizards' season is almost over, and next year (when the Wizards possibly get THIS guy), everyone will be on their jock, so show that you're a real genuine fan(they don't exist) by reading and commenting on all things Wizards-related right now.

I would like to send a special shout out to the three church employees who were standing out in front of my son's daycare this morning. You saw me carrying my son, his diaper bag and an extra package of diapers. All three of you looked me dead in the face, said "Praise the Lord, and good morning!", and I nodded my head and said good morning right back (I passed on the Lord praising). You then proceeded to watch me struggle with the door, while holding three items including a baby, without any of you lifting so much as a finger. And why did you do this? A woman with a big ass was walking towards her car, and you all were mesmerized with your mouths open.

You all completely forgot about the looking-at-the-sun rule which says you take one look at a big ass (or cleavage), make a mental picture, and then look away. Or if you're lucky enough to stare at the ass or cleavage via a mirror or a window, then you jump on that. But you don't stare at an ass in front of a church, and you damn sure don't do that when your fellow brother is struggling. Shame on you all.

Today's guest blog entry is brought to you by my wife:


I see how people start blogs based on their life and events surrounding them. Marriage, Baby, Divorce, Pregnancy etc. Every time I think of starting one based on something like say when Rashad & I got married or being pregnant and becoming parents together, the thought exhausts me. I try to gently tell people that no one gives a rat’s ass about their wedding or baby like they do. It’s the truth. Tell me when to show up to your ceremony or when the kid’s here. I don’t want to see every little effing detail about how your tent cards arrived and some were eggshell and some were taupe and now you have to find tent cards that are all either/or. No one cares – trust me. Rashad and I nearly did the whole wedding ceremony thing but mercifully he heard me explaining to a relative why this one and that one wouldn’t be invited to the super small ceremony we had in mind. The next thing I know within a week we’d booked a wedding beach planner and room in Miami – and no one was invited.

While I continue to shun then seriously consider the mom blog I may start, I’ll just continue enjoying my husband’s for now. Though his recounting of some of our parenting foibles are a little skewed. Perhaps, its perception VS. reality Matt.

There are a lot of things I just shut up and let go on as far as Mr. Nyles is concerned. Once I had him, I have to relinquish control over how some things are done so my husband will continue to be a willing and active participant. Sort of like the bed making but not really. I don’t go behind him and fix things where the baby is concerned. Luckily, Nyles is a little boy and will never require getting his hair done – I don’t guess – I mean if he wants to wear barrettes and a headband someday I’m okay with that. But hopefully for his sake he’ll never need for his dad to do his hair because I’m sure that would be one hotbed of shittyness. Let’s take a fine look and Rashad’s pampering shall we? So, with the diapering – there’s really not an issue with it being wrong so much as Rashad has a style. I think he thinks the “fold-back” with making the bed is a style but it ain’t. You can always tell when Rashad’s changed Nyles because the two fasteners will be crisscrossed in the front. That’s his move. Like and X marks the spot. You’ve been officially stamped with freshness. Yeah he really likes the crisscross and is quite proud of it. I don’t know why I find it particularly funny but I do.

This isn’t all about Rashad’s quirky habits though. I’d be miss and remiss if I didn’t share some of my own. Like waking up when he’s slept longer than three hours to see why he isn’t waking me up. I did that oh about three times last night at midnight, one and two am. Finally, at 2:30am he woke up as if to say let me give this lady some business. Crazy.

About two weeks ago we tried for three weeks to unsuccessfully sleep train Nyles. He wasn’t having it and every place I read, tells me that it was too early to have been attempting it anyway. I hated every single minute and was uptight, cried and agitated every night we tried it. Now he goes to sleep after eating but still in my arms. I realize we’ll have to try this again in a month or so but I am against crying it out unless I’m the crier.

I appreciate those of you who have sent a prayer along for us to get through the first day of daycare. Boy was that a nightmare. Nice timing on my part to return to work and have his first day of daycare on the day after my birthday. I had approximately four or five crying fits on that day alone. That’s not counting the times I had complete breakdowns in the couple of weeks leading up to it. I’m much better now but still would like to take this time to shamelessly request the services of a super in-home caregiver for Master Nyles who speaks English, doesn’t cost the same as a monthly house payment and won’t steal my underwear. Anyone? Anyone?

My latest article is here.

My lovely wife found this pic of me trying to burp Nyles, when he was just a few days old...

So yesterday I took young Nyles to take care, I signed him in, I dropped off his diaper bag, gave him his medicine, and then I realized I forgot his bottles. The first thing I said, out loud, in this fine church establishment was, "Sh*t!". I had to go all the way back home in traffic to get the bottles, then I had to come back in more traffic, and deliver the bottles. I was late for work, and basically thrown off the whole next day--but I got over it.

Today, I brought all the materials necessary for Nyles to have a a great day at daycare, and I apologized to the nice daycare lady for cursing. She claimed not to hear me (I don't know how that's true) and she said to me, "Yes, we don't do that here in the house of the Lord." I apologized again for that and forgetting the bottles and I left. But the defiant side of me wanted to curse again, because of the condescending tone she laid on me. But I was wrong, she was right, and that's just one of those things that you have to eat---that's what she said. Not to mention, I can't piss of the daycare staff taking care of my beloved son.

So Nyles in indirectly involved in me learning the art of restraint..I'm sure it will all unravel as he gets older.

Thanks to my main man Sabin for sending me this article from Diverse Issues in Higher Education. The title of the article is "The Black Woman's Burden", which may or may not interest the 4 people who read this blog. But this article is of special importance to me because my mother is quoted, so check it out.