It's one of those news days offering so little that CNN is still covering the faux near-death balloon story. Great... So I guess the latest significant, albeit ridiculous, thing that happened in domestic news was Obama's Nobel Peace Prize... and no he didn't deserve it. Since that's a dated story, my only two options here are looking outside this American bubble I feel so trapped in, or not writing about "news" at all. Eenie meenie minie... no wait... see, the problem with bloggers, often times, is that we want people to read our stuff. We want EVERYBODY to read our stuff... so we end up approaching our writing like popular musicians approach their "art." To write when one does not actually want to write... when one just wants to be read is, frankly, what I'm doing right now. Writing as a means to an end is trash...
After some soul searching...
Monday, October 19, 2009
The Half-Sentence
I'm pretty ashamed of my growing impatience, although I don't think I'm wrong to blame it on the techie world. You know that ridiculous feeling you get when you are chatting with someone online... someone you find yourself uniquely infatuated with... or about some juicy, or particularly thought provoking shit... and they write half a sentence then press enter, then their boss calls on the phone and has them doing some work-related stuff for a half-hour. After about a minute or so of waiting you realize that the person got pulled off to do something, although the thought crosses your mind that the person may have realized that they don't want to say whatever they were going to say... so they stop themselves and try and complete the sentence in a less harmful way. What could it be, you think? and then...
Sunday, October 18, 2009
What's the point?
Everyday I ask myself this question at least once... and usually more like once an hour: what the fuck is the point? As I began writing this blog entry, the question crossed my mind... and I asked myself the question twenty minutes ago as I went through my wardrobe in search of some outfits to wear to work this week. The question has only one real answer...
Sunday, July 26, 2009
An ode to my uncle... Turning 60.
Family is like a cast from a play. Everyone has a role to act out. There is the protagonist, the good guy, or central character or group of characters for which the audience is meant to feel most sympathetic; there are supporting characters, cast members who assist in the progression of a story; and then there are the antagonists who operate in direct opposition to the protagonist(s); and so on. The major difference between a family and a play’s cast, aside from the obvious real vs. fiction distinction, is the fact that members of a family seem to swap roles from time to time. The father is sometimes the protagonist, toiling away at work and fighting to bring home the proverbial “bacon.” Sometimes, the father is a supporting character assisting the mother in her tireless efforts to provide for the children, as she assumes the protagonist role. Then other times, the father becomes the antagonist, doing things that are counter to the ultimate goals of the family unit. Our role in the cast of family is dictated not only by the branch we occupy in the family tree, i.e. are we the youngest brother, the father, or the oldest daughter, but also by the kinds of choices we make in life.
Despite my agnosticism, I have always felt that our family was incredibly blessed; like there was an angel on the top of our family tree. As the oldest, you have operated in close proximity to her. You have been a role model for your siblings and their children, many of whom have wanted to follow your lead and become lawyers, as have Kamilah and Nkem (and perhaps me, one day), attend Carlton, as did my father, and attend Northwestern, as has Michael (and perhaps me, one day, hehe). From your position on our family tree, you have been able to have a profound impact on what kinds of choices other branches were making. Because of you, other branches have flowered in your image. Presumptuous as it may sound to assume that I can start playing casting director here, but I am taking it upon myself to grant you a spot on the security council, as one of very few permanent members of our family’s “board of protagonists”… not just because you are the oldest child of a great man, but also because you have been a great man yourself. To 40 more years!!!
Despite my agnosticism, I have always felt that our family was incredibly blessed; like there was an angel on the top of our family tree. As the oldest, you have operated in close proximity to her. You have been a role model for your siblings and their children, many of whom have wanted to follow your lead and become lawyers, as have Kamilah and Nkem (and perhaps me, one day), attend Carlton, as did my father, and attend Northwestern, as has Michael (and perhaps me, one day, hehe). From your position on our family tree, you have been able to have a profound impact on what kinds of choices other branches were making. Because of you, other branches have flowered in your image. Presumptuous as it may sound to assume that I can start playing casting director here, but I am taking it upon myself to grant you a spot on the security council, as one of very few permanent members of our family’s “board of protagonists”… not just because you are the oldest child of a great man, but also because you have been a great man yourself. To 40 more years!!!
An ode to my uncle... Turning 60.
Family is like a cast from a play. Everyone has a role to act out. There is the protagonist, the good guy, or central character or group of characters for which the audience is meant to feel most sympathetic; there are supporting characters, cast members who assist in the progression of a story; and then there are the antagonists who operate in direct opposition to the protagonist(s); and so on. The major difference between a family and a play’s cast, aside from the obvious real vs. fiction distinction, is the fact that members of a family seem to swap roles from time to time. The father is sometimes the protagonist, toiling away at work and fighting to bring home the proverbial “bacon.” Sometimes, the father is a supporting character assisting the mother in her tireless efforts to provide for the children, as she assumes the protagonist role. Then other times, the father becomes the antagonist, doing things that are counter to the ultimate goals of the family unit. Our role in the cast of family is dictated not only by the branch we occupy in the family tree, i.e. are we the youngest brother, the father, or the oldest daughter, but also by the kinds of choices we make in life.
Despite my agnosticism, I have always felt that our family was incredibly blessed; like there was an angel on the top of our family tree. As the oldest, you have operated in close proximity to her. You have been a role model for your siblings and their children, many of whom have wanted to follow your lead and become lawyers, as have Kamilah and Nkem (and perhaps me, one day), attend Carlton, as did my father, and attend Northwestern, as has Michael (and perhaps me, one day, hehe). From your position on our family tree, you have been able to have a profound impact on what kinds of choices other branches were making. Because of you, other branches have flowered in your image. Presumptuous as it may sound to assume that I can start playing casting director here, but I am taking it upon myself to grant you a spot on the security council, as one of very few permanent members of our family’s “board of protagonists”… not just because you are the oldest child of a great man, but also because you have been a great man yourself. To 40 more years!!!
Despite my agnosticism, I have always felt that our family was incredibly blessed; like there was an angel on the top of our family tree. As the oldest, you have operated in close proximity to her. You have been a role model for your siblings and their children, many of whom have wanted to follow your lead and become lawyers, as have Kamilah and Nkem (and perhaps me, one day), attend Carlton, as did my father, and attend Northwestern, as has Michael (and perhaps me, one day, hehe). From your position on our family tree, you have been able to have a profound impact on what kinds of choices other branches were making. Because of you, other branches have flowered in your image. Presumptuous as it may sound to assume that I can start playing casting director here, but I am taking it upon myself to grant you a spot on the security council, as one of very few permanent members of our family’s “board of protagonists”… not just because you are the oldest child of a great man, but also because you have been a great man yourself. To 40 more years!!!
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Thoughts from Memory Lane
This past weekend, I drove down to Charlottesville to meet up with an old college friend. As soon as I got to my college home, I felt this tidal wave of nostalgia grip me in it's undertow... I felt like I was drowning in it all weekend. "DROWNING???" you may ask. Well, drowning is a helpless, out of control feeling brought on by immersion in water. I was immersed in memories and, frankly, old habits. It was, at once, a reminder of how far I've come, and how much further along I should be...
As I drove to my buddy's new house on the outskirts of Charlottesville, we passed by the Charlottesville Jail, which I had spent some time in a few years back. As we pulled up to the house and walked on in, I was impressed by the house, how well put-together and how well-kept it was. John had really done something with himself.
I settled in a bit and then we started to talk about John's business, my work, Dean's work, life in Charlottesville, life for us who'd moved back to D.C., and other regular let's-catch-up topics. As the pleasantries concluded, our conversation drifted to how we've changed and grown up quite a bit. We would be having kids soon, we all agreed, and we'd be getting married. With those changes on the horizon, we would have to make of our lives a stage, with all the appropriate props, for the scenes of our adulthood to take place. There would be no smoking, no binge drinking, no excessive cursing... at least not on stage, right. And this eerie conversation seemed to set the stage itself, in a way, for a night of drinking and smoking... somehow, us acknowledging that we would have to grow up soon was like an excuse shielding us from those responsibilities for the night...
Or maybe it was another kind of stage-setting altogether; the development of another sideshow that all men need... a place where youth can be reenacted. This stage is adorned with stripper poles, neon lights, call girls, alcohol, drugs, and only one rule: what happens on-stage stays there.
Sometimes I feel like the gender divide is as simple as this: women live to look young again, and men live to feel young again...(Ellipsis)
As I drove to my buddy's new house on the outskirts of Charlottesville, we passed by the Charlottesville Jail, which I had spent some time in a few years back. As we pulled up to the house and walked on in, I was impressed by the house, how well put-together and how well-kept it was. John had really done something with himself.
I settled in a bit and then we started to talk about John's business, my work, Dean's work, life in Charlottesville, life for us who'd moved back to D.C., and other regular let's-catch-up topics. As the pleasantries concluded, our conversation drifted to how we've changed and grown up quite a bit. We would be having kids soon, we all agreed, and we'd be getting married. With those changes on the horizon, we would have to make of our lives a stage, with all the appropriate props, for the scenes of our adulthood to take place. There would be no smoking, no binge drinking, no excessive cursing... at least not on stage, right. And this eerie conversation seemed to set the stage itself, in a way, for a night of drinking and smoking... somehow, us acknowledging that we would have to grow up soon was like an excuse shielding us from those responsibilities for the night...
Or maybe it was another kind of stage-setting altogether; the development of another sideshow that all men need... a place where youth can be reenacted. This stage is adorned with stripper poles, neon lights, call girls, alcohol, drugs, and only one rule: what happens on-stage stays there.
Sometimes I feel like the gender divide is as simple as this: women live to look young again, and men live to feel young again...(Ellipsis)
In Treatment
That's the title of the mixtape I'm currently working on, to be released right here for your download... (Ellipsis)
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