T’Was the Night Before Disney
BD has proven he’s the planner in this team. The man has managed to secure tickets, prepare an itinerary, pack (for himself and the Mini) and schedule matching grooming appointments for him and the little one. On the other hand, I have groaned about my cold, rummaged through my dresser drawers and found lint in my belly button; all to say, I’ll be doing the night-before-the-trip twilight packing I seem to do before each of my excursions. Also, I’ve begun letting the scattered, salt-and-pepper bird’s nest I call hair begin to grow in. It’s apparent that I have to stop at the nearest barbershop and get someone to shape-it-up before I head out; otherwise I have to resort to shaving it off again. In light of the fact that I promised to let it grow following my Great-at-38 birthday trip, I better keep to my word and just get cleaned up. To be honest, I’m excited and scared. It’s our first real vacation together and more important, our first vacation as a “family.” BD seems a lot more settled and comfortable with the idea of us traveling as a unit than I do. For me it just feels odd in that I’ve never really been in a relationship that involves a child. Rather than plan one of my bang-up romantic getaways, I find myself planning for us as a threesome. It’s a completely new concept for me and one that I’m not an expert on. Luckily, our accommodations will have a pool, hot tub and PS2 access which should keep the little one busy, but this doesn’t mean that I’m not considering how we will spend this extended “quality” time together. Then there’s the question of sleeping arrangements; the Mini is only eight and will probably be afraid his first night away from home, so I’ve surmised that BD should probably put him to bed first and attempt sneaking in with me afterward. Also on my what-if list is what to do if the little one wakes up frightened at night and wants his daddy. Do I just let him crawl between the two of us to find comfort? Just kidding…but the question of what to do if the kid wakes up at night has crept into my thoughts. I really want to know what BD has up his sleeve. All said, it’s bound to be an amazing trip. My adrenaline is pumped and I’m ready to have a ball with both my boyz. Both BD and I are taking our cameras to capture this moment in our history. Hopefully I can share many of these with my blogger family, but in real celebrity fashion, I’d like to keep the Mini out of the spotlight.
9-4-69; T-Day
My girl Treavor – that’s right, I said girl! – celebrates her birthday this holiday weekend. One month my junior, Ms. T resides in Harlem, USA. We know each other since I was 17 – though she probably doesn’t realize this today. Treav and I met through her brother, one of my oldest friends in the world, blogger’s own J’Moo. Happy birthday girl! For the record, Ben Gazzara is a good actor!
And I Thank You
Many times we don’t take the time to say thank-you to folks who make a difference in our lives. We sure as hell take the time to bad-mouth, gossip and berate everyone who gives us grief, but what about sharing some words of appreciation? Well, once a month, I want to commit to sharing words of appreciation for someone who has a positive impact on my life – whether or not they realize they’ve moved me. The first person I’d like to start this honor scroll with is Alan F. My boy Alan stepped in and offered his crib in Florida without a moment’s hesitation and has done so much since his self-less gift that I am speechless and awe-struck at his ability to give. For the record, he has renewed my belief in friendship. He was never asked to give – he just did. Most of all, he made this historical moment in my life memorable for yet another reason – the beauty of true friendship. Thank you Alan. May God bless you 10-fold for giving and expecting nothing in return. I love you for making my life better.
On Blast
The concept of Pay-It-Forward was widely discussed at the time of the Helen Hunt movie, but the true act of paying-it-forward seems to have lost momentum. To do something unexpected for someone and want nothing in return is the true meaning of giving. It isn’t calculated or an attempt to grandstand.
What have you done/given that falls into the category of paying-it-forward? Has Karma/God/etc. brought the blessing back to you?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Listening to: Imagine Me; Kirk Franklin
Friday, August 31, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Afternoon Edition - 8/30/07
Not-So-General Hospital
After sitting for over an hour in an empty waiting room, my doctor sauntered in and apologized for being delayed. My initial reaction was to sever his testicles and feed them to him, but in light of my throbbing head and tight chest, I opted for a simple, “The wait time is really becoming unacceptable.” The nonexistent pleasantries aside, my doctor listened to my chest, peered down my throat, took my temperature, pumped my arm for my blood pressure and even juggled my jewels for an added zing of humiliation. In the end the diagnosis was simple, “You have a viral infection (a cold) and there is nothing we can do, but wait for it to pass. Everyone has it right now; so just hold tight.” With my goodies still swinging, I said, “So I waited over an hour to hear this?!” The doctor pointed to my pants around my ankles and simply said, “Can we talk after you’re dressed?” I turned around and bent down to get my pants; exposing my entire crack to the good M-D and simply said, “Don’t bother! I have nothing else to say!” He smiled and said, “It’s good news. You’re just cranky with a cold. Ewww…” I detected a note of patronizing and slight gloating in his tone. I snatched the pen from its holder in his shirt pocket – jolting him to attention – and simply wrote my cell number on a Post-It note on his desk. I then stuck the note to his chest and said, “The next time you think you might be running behind use that number and avoid me the additional discomfort.” I pivoted, grabbed my bag and did the angry-man-walking through his waiting area. The nurse yelled behind me to wait for a follow-up appointment and I simply hollered back, “There’s no follow-up when there’s nothing wrong - MORON!” The elevator came right in time and I heard her gasp and say, “Asshole,” as the doors closed behind me. So all-in-all, I’m good – no infections, no serious issues – just a cold and a bit of an attitude.
On Blast
When I’m not feeling well I’m even less likely to care what anyone thinks and I say precisely what comes to mind.
What is the worst tantrum you’ve thrown that you attribute to being under the weather?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
After sitting for over an hour in an empty waiting room, my doctor sauntered in and apologized for being delayed. My initial reaction was to sever his testicles and feed them to him, but in light of my throbbing head and tight chest, I opted for a simple, “The wait time is really becoming unacceptable.” The nonexistent pleasantries aside, my doctor listened to my chest, peered down my throat, took my temperature, pumped my arm for my blood pressure and even juggled my jewels for an added zing of humiliation. In the end the diagnosis was simple, “You have a viral infection (a cold) and there is nothing we can do, but wait for it to pass. Everyone has it right now; so just hold tight.” With my goodies still swinging, I said, “So I waited over an hour to hear this?!” The doctor pointed to my pants around my ankles and simply said, “Can we talk after you’re dressed?” I turned around and bent down to get my pants; exposing my entire crack to the good M-D and simply said, “Don’t bother! I have nothing else to say!” He smiled and said, “It’s good news. You’re just cranky with a cold. Ewww…” I detected a note of patronizing and slight gloating in his tone. I snatched the pen from its holder in his shirt pocket – jolting him to attention – and simply wrote my cell number on a Post-It note on his desk. I then stuck the note to his chest and said, “The next time you think you might be running behind use that number and avoid me the additional discomfort.” I pivoted, grabbed my bag and did the angry-man-walking through his waiting area. The nurse yelled behind me to wait for a follow-up appointment and I simply hollered back, “There’s no follow-up when there’s nothing wrong - MORON!” The elevator came right in time and I heard her gasp and say, “Asshole,” as the doors closed behind me. So all-in-all, I’m good – no infections, no serious issues – just a cold and a bit of an attitude.
On Blast
When I’m not feeling well I’m even less likely to care what anyone thinks and I say precisely what comes to mind.
What is the worst tantrum you’ve thrown that you attribute to being under the weather?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Morning Edition - 8/29/07
Every Breath I Take
Just when I thought my end-of-summer cold had subsided, it has taken an odd turn that has left me feeling weak, irritable and touchy. I have a regular allergist appointment tomorrow and plan to bleed the doc for some remedy to this situation – especially in light of my upcoming Disney trip. Yesterday while at the two-mile mark of my three-mile run, I got a stabbing pain in my right lung; which only means that I probably shouldn’t be doing such strenuous exertion while phlegm fills half my lungs. All said, even when under the weather I tend to feel better when I work out. God forbid I should have my mental obesity issues creep in to make me stress. On a positive note, BD is hard at work at the gym as well. While I take on the lunch-time workout, BD has been tackling the crack-of-dawn exercise. As I mentioned to him Sunday, his body is already showing signs of a man who’s breaking-it-down. I’m very proud of him. We’re now on countdown to Disney…I will drag myself with Goofy on my back (if necessary) to enjoy this trip!
Trouble On Easy Street
Leona Helmsley, crowned the Queen of Mean for her “Only the little people pay taxes,” comment years ago, died in Connecticut earlier this month. The hotelier was known for not taking any crap and running an empire with an estimated value in the billions. Her will was recently read and it appears Trouble, her trusted white Maltese (a dog the size of my right ass cheek) stands to inherit $12 million. In close second place are two grandchildren who were left $5 million a piece, if – and only if – they visit their father’s grave once every calendar year; otherwise they don’t get a penny. Two of her other grandchildren got nothing; a note in her will says, “For reasons known to them.” Her chauffeur received a paltry $100,000 and the remaining monies will be allocated to the Leona M. and Harry B. Helmsley Charitable Trust Fund.
Double Vision Quick Fix
Twin brothers Tyron and Tyrell Hill, 11, of Penn Hills – a suburb of Pittsburg, PA – were victims of a tragedy allegedly at the hands of their 18-year old brother Troy Lavelle Hill. The grandfather, Lovette Williams, who found Tyron dead and Tyrell wrapped in a blood soaked blanket in the attic, says Troy had been suffering from depression and mental issues. Tyrell identified Troy as the attacker. Now police are combing the area looking for the older Hill. Williams says that he may survive if his grandson Tyrell does. He moved to be with his grandchildren and is now horrified by the tragedy.
On Blast
Should probate law be changed to give precedence to surviving human relatives over family pets and charitable organizations regardless of the wishes of the wealthy deceased?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Just when I thought my end-of-summer cold had subsided, it has taken an odd turn that has left me feeling weak, irritable and touchy. I have a regular allergist appointment tomorrow and plan to bleed the doc for some remedy to this situation – especially in light of my upcoming Disney trip. Yesterday while at the two-mile mark of my three-mile run, I got a stabbing pain in my right lung; which only means that I probably shouldn’t be doing such strenuous exertion while phlegm fills half my lungs. All said, even when under the weather I tend to feel better when I work out. God forbid I should have my mental obesity issues creep in to make me stress. On a positive note, BD is hard at work at the gym as well. While I take on the lunch-time workout, BD has been tackling the crack-of-dawn exercise. As I mentioned to him Sunday, his body is already showing signs of a man who’s breaking-it-down. I’m very proud of him. We’re now on countdown to Disney…I will drag myself with Goofy on my back (if necessary) to enjoy this trip!
Trouble On Easy Street
Leona Helmsley, crowned the Queen of Mean for her “Only the little people pay taxes,” comment years ago, died in Connecticut earlier this month. The hotelier was known for not taking any crap and running an empire with an estimated value in the billions. Her will was recently read and it appears Trouble, her trusted white Maltese (a dog the size of my right ass cheek) stands to inherit $12 million. In close second place are two grandchildren who were left $5 million a piece, if – and only if – they visit their father’s grave once every calendar year; otherwise they don’t get a penny. Two of her other grandchildren got nothing; a note in her will says, “For reasons known to them.” Her chauffeur received a paltry $100,000 and the remaining monies will be allocated to the Leona M. and Harry B. Helmsley Charitable Trust Fund.
Double Vision Quick Fix
Twin brothers Tyron and Tyrell Hill, 11, of Penn Hills – a suburb of Pittsburg, PA – were victims of a tragedy allegedly at the hands of their 18-year old brother Troy Lavelle Hill. The grandfather, Lovette Williams, who found Tyron dead and Tyrell wrapped in a blood soaked blanket in the attic, says Troy had been suffering from depression and mental issues. Tyrell identified Troy as the attacker. Now police are combing the area looking for the older Hill. Williams says that he may survive if his grandson Tyrell does. He moved to be with his grandchildren and is now horrified by the tragedy.
On Blast
Should probate law be changed to give precedence to surviving human relatives over family pets and charitable organizations regardless of the wishes of the wealthy deceased?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Monday, August 27, 2007
Morning Edition - 8/27/07
The Hardest; The Best
I’ve found it difficult saying the words, “I love you.” It seems that every time I’ve used those words in the past and meant it, they’ve backfired and held the greatest sting. They represent the deepest sentiment to me and they also are my vulnerability red flag. They signify a chink in my armor; a Trojan horse in my heart. I believe I’ve loved BD for quite some time now. His smile, his voice, his presence fills me with such positive emotions that in my lowest moods and my recent bout with a cold, his very essence willed me to feel better in record time. During one of our recent rides home from the office we talked about how love is not necessarily felt simultaneously and that it seems there is always one individual that feels stronger feelings than the other. We clarified that it doesn’t mean that both parties aren’t equally in love; just that one always appears to have stronger feelings. We agreed that the tides change throughout the relationship and that the party treading deeper in feelings shifts. At the time I wondered whether he could see that I was already there, but judging by my ability to hold back, I figured I was doing a good job at keeping my heart curtains drawn. Then yesterday we spent the day together; did some shopping and ended up at my place to take a Sunday afternoon nap. The nap went out the window, but what was beautiful was that as we lay in the afterglow of it all, I was staring into his face and he looked over and without a moments hesitation said, “I love you so much.” I swallowed hard and said, “I love you too.” Well, that ignited yet another couple of hours of consummation and that warmth that comes with forthright recognition. I’m in love…wow. Who’da thunk it? I think the reason there’s no longer a fear is that deep in my heart I’ve come to one conclusion. I am living out this love in full. I am giving it me… all of me. I’m not holding back fears, I’m not putting on airs, and I’m not even going there on being the number one bitch in town. It’s not about that. It’s about enjoying a man that represents all that I’ve wanted in a man. Most of all, I’ve concluded that if it works, or falls through or even if he gets hit by a high speed bullet train – I would regret none of it. It was worth every bit of my time, my effort, my disarmament. You see, I’ve done the shields-dating; I’ve done the you-aren’t-even-in-a-position-to-hurt-me dating; and it has proven to me that you can’t get 100% when you’re giving 80%. So, to the laws of Karma, “Here’s my 100%. Give me my equal exchange rate.”
On Blast
There are people that wait to hear of their impending doom – be it from disease, a near-death experience, etc. – to live life fully. When they do exercise that freedom, they realize they missed out on so much and that they should’ve lived fully when all was good in their lives. Accept that we don’t have to wait until it comes to that type of situation….
If you were faced with the news that you had a short time to live, what risk, chance, liberty would you take to live your life fully to its end?
Listening To: Love; Musiq
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Morning Edition - 8/25/07
Lyrical Tear-Jerker
I stayed home from work yesterday and nursed a sudden cold – an end of summer cold if you will. I’m feeling disconnected and hazy by the drugs, but it beats the head throbbing and pasty mouth I felt the night before. BD had checked-up on me most of the day to see if I needed anything, but I’m one of those folks that prefer to go it alone when I’m not feeling good…call it vanity, but I hate to have folks see me lookin’ like crap. At any rate, he sends me this song by Savage Garden that had my eyes tearing – and NO, it wasn’t my irritated sinuses acting up. I think I feel better already….
On Blast
Do folks who are falling in love realize how irritated some of the folks around them can get hearing their sappy stories? LOL
Keep passin' the open windows...
I stayed home from work yesterday and nursed a sudden cold – an end of summer cold if you will. I’m feeling disconnected and hazy by the drugs, but it beats the head throbbing and pasty mouth I felt the night before. BD had checked-up on me most of the day to see if I needed anything, but I’m one of those folks that prefer to go it alone when I’m not feeling good…call it vanity, but I hate to have folks see me lookin’ like crap. At any rate, he sends me this song by Savage Garden that had my eyes tearing – and NO, it wasn’t my irritated sinuses acting up. I think I feel better already….
On Blast
Do folks who are falling in love realize how irritated some of the folks around them can get hearing their sappy stories? LOL
Keep passin' the open windows...
Friday, August 24, 2007
Morning Edition - 8/24/07
M-I-C; See Ya’ Real Soon
With the summer coming to a close, BD and I wanted to do something that would close the season with a sizzle and turn the heat up on our last official summer weekend. We found them both in our upcoming trip to Disney. We’ll be leaving for Orlando on Saturday, September 1st and stay through the 5th. A very special thank-you to my boy Al. A trusted friend with therapist-like qualities, Al has offered to let BD, the Mini and I stay at his beautiful second home minutes from Disney. The tickets are purchased, the car rental is reserved and we are ready to have an amazing time where we can all be kids by day and BD and I can be naughty boys by night. Last night we spent the evening planning the parks we would visit and the places we’d like to see. This trip marks our first getaway together and our first jaunt as a threesome. The Mini could hardly contain himself when BD told him of our plans. I found myself stirring my coffee and practicing, “I’m going to Disneyworld!”
On Blast
This summer I moved into my new crib, opened myself up to romance and enjoyed the company of magnificent friends. I certainly feel the summer jump-started my heart again.
Off the top of your head, what is most memorable about your summer 2007?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Morning Edition - 8/23/07
On Blast
BD always jokes that I always appear to have my own sitcom with the general public as my studio audience. While riding the train I broke out into this song and the lady sitting across from us smiled real big...the audience agrees...this L is unbreakable.
Do you know what it takes to make your love (or your future love) unbreakable?
Keep passin' the open windows...
Morning Edition - 8/22/07
The Pursuit of Unhappiness
I can’t recall a time in my life when I pursued an individual who could not reciprocate my feelings for them. My point is simple – beautiful, handsome, and charming mean nothing if the person cannot fill the post that your heart has them slated for. Case in point: There is a woman who is taken by BD. She has sent flowers to his job, sends daily text messages of encouragement and pleasantries and even “happened to be in the area” once for lunch. When he told me about her, I simply asked how he felt about the attention and he seemed uncomfortable by her persistent pursuit. To this, I simply said, “Then nip it in the bud before it grows.” He did, and the woman left the hook in the water with a, “I’d love to stay friends and let you know that if you’re ever interested, I’m here.” Personally, I don’t blame her – he’s attractive, intelligent, charming and attentive; qualities I’m sure she’s looking for in a man. Also, I don’t believe he made clear that he’s seeing someone – a man at that – so her continued contact is understandable. Today, he mentioned that an old friend had reached-out to him to joke that she had a dream with him that involved him being chased by a woman and she said that in the dream the woman, “Would not quit.” He laughed and told me the story and said, “I wonder who that woman could be – I mean it could be my ex wife or an ex girlfriend or even the woman who sent me the flowers…” I sat quietly listening and then responded with, “How does it matter?” The question in-and-of-itself wasn’t odd, but my tone was definitely on the irritated side. I could here his voice as he recoiled and tried to ask, “What do you mean?” I repeated, “How does it matter? If you’re not interested in any of these ladies, who cares which one of them – if any – this friend of yours could have had this coincidental dream about?” There was another awkward pause before I continued, “You’ll always be pursued…you’re worth pursuing. The main issue is who you’re pursuing. Right?” He stammered a bit and said, “Yeah, I just thought it was really odd that she would have this dream when she doesn’t know any of these folks and in light of that girl who sent me flowers recently...” Blame it on the rain, but I just didn’t feel like continuing this little charade…”It boils down to folks not knowing their boundaries, sometimes because those boundaries aren’t clear to them. When you finally feel in a position to tell folks where you stand, they’ll cease to pursue. In the meantime, expect them to relentlessly chase, since they assume you’re available and probably just playing a game of being aloof,” I said. I wanted to reel that last line back and modify its content, but knew that that’s how I really felt. I let it hang there. “You’re right and it doesn’t matter since I know I want to be with you,” he soothed. “The thing is, you know this, but they don’t. So until they do, you should expect some hot and heavy pursuits. I better get back to work. We’ll talk later,” I said. I hung up and took a quick walk outside for a breath of fresh air. I know it shouldn’t bother me, but it does. It bothers me when men/women know – and this woman, at the very least, knows he’s not interested – that someone is not even of their sexual orientation and still pursue them. Further, it sends me over the edge when folks (including BD) are swooning in the spotlight of attention and don’t see the obvious pitfalls toying with adult feelings can lead to.
On Blast
Monday’s story may have some of you thinking that it’s all roses and lily pads on my end, but all “relationships” have their rough spots. In the last few months I have come across plenty of instances where men (and yes, even women – go figure) have approached me. Whether I shoot them down in the instant or keep them at arms-distance with my comments, I don’t encourage their continued pursuit. Moreover, I don’t feel BD and I would benefit from him hearing of my daily encounters with interested parties. That said, I also recognize that everyone handles situations differently. I often expect folks to deal with situations the way I would and have been stubbornly unforgiving when they handle things their way and have a negative outcome.
If you’re on the up-and-up and handling situations appropriately, is it a good idea to relay these interactions to your partner? What does the relationship stand to gain?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
I can’t recall a time in my life when I pursued an individual who could not reciprocate my feelings for them. My point is simple – beautiful, handsome, and charming mean nothing if the person cannot fill the post that your heart has them slated for. Case in point: There is a woman who is taken by BD. She has sent flowers to his job, sends daily text messages of encouragement and pleasantries and even “happened to be in the area” once for lunch. When he told me about her, I simply asked how he felt about the attention and he seemed uncomfortable by her persistent pursuit. To this, I simply said, “Then nip it in the bud before it grows.” He did, and the woman left the hook in the water with a, “I’d love to stay friends and let you know that if you’re ever interested, I’m here.” Personally, I don’t blame her – he’s attractive, intelligent, charming and attentive; qualities I’m sure she’s looking for in a man. Also, I don’t believe he made clear that he’s seeing someone – a man at that – so her continued contact is understandable. Today, he mentioned that an old friend had reached-out to him to joke that she had a dream with him that involved him being chased by a woman and she said that in the dream the woman, “Would not quit.” He laughed and told me the story and said, “I wonder who that woman could be – I mean it could be my ex wife or an ex girlfriend or even the woman who sent me the flowers…” I sat quietly listening and then responded with, “How does it matter?” The question in-and-of-itself wasn’t odd, but my tone was definitely on the irritated side. I could here his voice as he recoiled and tried to ask, “What do you mean?” I repeated, “How does it matter? If you’re not interested in any of these ladies, who cares which one of them – if any – this friend of yours could have had this coincidental dream about?” There was another awkward pause before I continued, “You’ll always be pursued…you’re worth pursuing. The main issue is who you’re pursuing. Right?” He stammered a bit and said, “Yeah, I just thought it was really odd that she would have this dream when she doesn’t know any of these folks and in light of that girl who sent me flowers recently...” Blame it on the rain, but I just didn’t feel like continuing this little charade…”It boils down to folks not knowing their boundaries, sometimes because those boundaries aren’t clear to them. When you finally feel in a position to tell folks where you stand, they’ll cease to pursue. In the meantime, expect them to relentlessly chase, since they assume you’re available and probably just playing a game of being aloof,” I said. I wanted to reel that last line back and modify its content, but knew that that’s how I really felt. I let it hang there. “You’re right and it doesn’t matter since I know I want to be with you,” he soothed. “The thing is, you know this, but they don’t. So until they do, you should expect some hot and heavy pursuits. I better get back to work. We’ll talk later,” I said. I hung up and took a quick walk outside for a breath of fresh air. I know it shouldn’t bother me, but it does. It bothers me when men/women know – and this woman, at the very least, knows he’s not interested – that someone is not even of their sexual orientation and still pursue them. Further, it sends me over the edge when folks (including BD) are swooning in the spotlight of attention and don’t see the obvious pitfalls toying with adult feelings can lead to.
On Blast
Monday’s story may have some of you thinking that it’s all roses and lily pads on my end, but all “relationships” have their rough spots. In the last few months I have come across plenty of instances where men (and yes, even women – go figure) have approached me. Whether I shoot them down in the instant or keep them at arms-distance with my comments, I don’t encourage their continued pursuit. Moreover, I don’t feel BD and I would benefit from him hearing of my daily encounters with interested parties. That said, I also recognize that everyone handles situations differently. I often expect folks to deal with situations the way I would and have been stubbornly unforgiving when they handle things their way and have a negative outcome.
If you’re on the up-and-up and handling situations appropriately, is it a good idea to relay these interactions to your partner? What does the relationship stand to gain?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Monday, August 20, 2007
Morning Edition - 8/20/07
And Then There Were Three
Friday evening BD and I headed out from the office and had dinner before calling it a night. He excitedly announced that we would get together Saturday and he would cook dinner and make it a movie night. It sounded like a welcome plan since we were both looking forward to a night of chilliin’. Unfortunately, the Mini’s mom did not keep to her plan of keeping the kid and when I spoke with BD on Saturday he was frustrated and upset that he had to cancel our plans. I repeatedly mentioned that I wasn’t at all put-out by the cancellation and that he shouldn’t worry about having our night some other time. By Sunday, BD was tight (street-speak for really pissed-off) and said he was going to take a cab ride over to Mini’s mom’s house to drop the kid. He was especially upset at the Mini being disappointed by the lack of attention from his mom. I told BD I’d drive him over, since if the mom was there we could just have our dinner date after all. As the Mini and BD got in the car I greeted both and nervously smiled and made small talk on our way to the mom’s crib. As luck would have it, she wasn’t home and looking at the Mini’s face when he returned to the car, I saw he was distraught. We drove a couple of blocks before I heard his soft sighs and whimpers. I looked in my rearview mirror to see the tears streaming down his face and immediately pulled over and asked BD to sit in the back seat with him to comfort him. I suddenly felt an enormous pang of anger as I watched BD with the Mini in his arms trying to explain that mommy was “probably just really busy…” How can a mom do this, I thought. Then suddenly I knew I had to be the one to change the mood. I remembered that BD said that the Mini absolutely loves Burger King. “I don’t know about you guys, but I could sure eat some BKs right about now,” I said. The Mini looked at me and smiled through his tears. “What do you think,” I continued. “Yeah…let’s have Burger King,” the Mini screeched. For the record, I absolutely hate Burger King and the food gives me menstrual-like cramps, but someone had to take one for the team. We ordered our meals, sat down and shared our fries and onion rings with our burgers. I laughed and made silly jokes and the Mini and I connected in a way that I never thought would happen so soon. Immediately afterward, the Mini said we should get some ice cream from the next door Baskin Robbins shop. “That’s enough…unless you’re going to pay, we’re not having ice cream,” BD playfully said to the Mini. “Here’s my plan…” I immediately chimed in. “You’ll distract the lady behind the counter and tell her you can’t find your daddy,” my animation grew as I continued my instructions, “while you have her distracted I’ll jump behind the counter and scoop out our favorite ice cream and we’ll run to the car,” I finished. The Mini laughed and said, “You’re nuts. I don’t think we can pull it off.” “Nonsense,” I said, serious and determined. “Just remember the plan and stay in character.” As we reached the door to the Baskin Robbins, BD said, “Fine, I’ll pay for the darn ice cream!” I looked at the Mini and winked, “See, we got our ice cream!” He started chuckling and dangled off my arm as we chose our favorite flavors. We then sat in the shop window and took spoonfuls of each other’s cups as we chuckled away and acted silly. I looked over at BD and he was smiling, but his eyes were filled with tears. He mouthed the words, “Thank you.” We left the parlor and hit the sneaker shop for some window shopping, the Mini riding piggy back and joking with me the entire time. When I finally pulled up to BD’s place to drop them off, the Mini asked if I was coming in. He seemed excited – like he had made a new best friend. “Nah…you guys go ahead, I have a lot to do at home,” I said. “Please call me when you get home. You just don’t know how I’m feeling right now,” BD said. As I drove home I was still disappointed that the Mini had to experience a neglectful mom, but I understood that some things happen for a reason. I was given the opportunity to meet the Mini and be myself because it was such an impromptu meeting. It was one of the most fulfilling experiences I’ve had in recent memory. BD called shortly after I got in and said, “I’m so glad you two hit it off so well and I immediately saw your paternal instincts kick-in. You just don’t know how much it meant for you to turn this afternoon around and more even that the Mini likes you so much.” I felt a frog in my throat and simply said, “The pleasure was all mine. Thank you for sharing him with me.” He then said, “The Mini asked me where you live…” I said, “Tell him I live right here…” and point to your chest, I instructed. Yeah, looks like we’re officially at stage 3.
On Blast
This relationship – and yeah, I think I should start looking at it that way – is completely different from anything I’ve experienced in the past. It holds so many different facets – physical lust, emotional fulfillment and now the sense of me as part of a family unit. I’m so grateful and full to be where I am right now. I’m feeling that my past was preparing me for BD and this moment.
How do you believe your past has prepared you to appreciate and enjoy where you are today?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Listening to: If You Asked Me To
Friday evening BD and I headed out from the office and had dinner before calling it a night. He excitedly announced that we would get together Saturday and he would cook dinner and make it a movie night. It sounded like a welcome plan since we were both looking forward to a night of chilliin’. Unfortunately, the Mini’s mom did not keep to her plan of keeping the kid and when I spoke with BD on Saturday he was frustrated and upset that he had to cancel our plans. I repeatedly mentioned that I wasn’t at all put-out by the cancellation and that he shouldn’t worry about having our night some other time. By Sunday, BD was tight (street-speak for really pissed-off) and said he was going to take a cab ride over to Mini’s mom’s house to drop the kid. He was especially upset at the Mini being disappointed by the lack of attention from his mom. I told BD I’d drive him over, since if the mom was there we could just have our dinner date after all. As the Mini and BD got in the car I greeted both and nervously smiled and made small talk on our way to the mom’s crib. As luck would have it, she wasn’t home and looking at the Mini’s face when he returned to the car, I saw he was distraught. We drove a couple of blocks before I heard his soft sighs and whimpers. I looked in my rearview mirror to see the tears streaming down his face and immediately pulled over and asked BD to sit in the back seat with him to comfort him. I suddenly felt an enormous pang of anger as I watched BD with the Mini in his arms trying to explain that mommy was “probably just really busy…” How can a mom do this, I thought. Then suddenly I knew I had to be the one to change the mood. I remembered that BD said that the Mini absolutely loves Burger King. “I don’t know about you guys, but I could sure eat some BKs right about now,” I said. The Mini looked at me and smiled through his tears. “What do you think,” I continued. “Yeah…let’s have Burger King,” the Mini screeched. For the record, I absolutely hate Burger King and the food gives me menstrual-like cramps, but someone had to take one for the team. We ordered our meals, sat down and shared our fries and onion rings with our burgers. I laughed and made silly jokes and the Mini and I connected in a way that I never thought would happen so soon. Immediately afterward, the Mini said we should get some ice cream from the next door Baskin Robbins shop. “That’s enough…unless you’re going to pay, we’re not having ice cream,” BD playfully said to the Mini. “Here’s my plan…” I immediately chimed in. “You’ll distract the lady behind the counter and tell her you can’t find your daddy,” my animation grew as I continued my instructions, “while you have her distracted I’ll jump behind the counter and scoop out our favorite ice cream and we’ll run to the car,” I finished. The Mini laughed and said, “You’re nuts. I don’t think we can pull it off.” “Nonsense,” I said, serious and determined. “Just remember the plan and stay in character.” As we reached the door to the Baskin Robbins, BD said, “Fine, I’ll pay for the darn ice cream!” I looked at the Mini and winked, “See, we got our ice cream!” He started chuckling and dangled off my arm as we chose our favorite flavors. We then sat in the shop window and took spoonfuls of each other’s cups as we chuckled away and acted silly. I looked over at BD and he was smiling, but his eyes were filled with tears. He mouthed the words, “Thank you.” We left the parlor and hit the sneaker shop for some window shopping, the Mini riding piggy back and joking with me the entire time. When I finally pulled up to BD’s place to drop them off, the Mini asked if I was coming in. He seemed excited – like he had made a new best friend. “Nah…you guys go ahead, I have a lot to do at home,” I said. “Please call me when you get home. You just don’t know how I’m feeling right now,” BD said. As I drove home I was still disappointed that the Mini had to experience a neglectful mom, but I understood that some things happen for a reason. I was given the opportunity to meet the Mini and be myself because it was such an impromptu meeting. It was one of the most fulfilling experiences I’ve had in recent memory. BD called shortly after I got in and said, “I’m so glad you two hit it off so well and I immediately saw your paternal instincts kick-in. You just don’t know how much it meant for you to turn this afternoon around and more even that the Mini likes you so much.” I felt a frog in my throat and simply said, “The pleasure was all mine. Thank you for sharing him with me.” He then said, “The Mini asked me where you live…” I said, “Tell him I live right here…” and point to your chest, I instructed. Yeah, looks like we’re officially at stage 3.
On Blast
This relationship – and yeah, I think I should start looking at it that way – is completely different from anything I’ve experienced in the past. It holds so many different facets – physical lust, emotional fulfillment and now the sense of me as part of a family unit. I’m so grateful and full to be where I am right now. I’m feeling that my past was preparing me for BD and this moment.
How do you believe your past has prepared you to appreciate and enjoy where you are today?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Listening to: If You Asked Me To
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Morning Edition - 8/18/07
On Blast
Some songs just say it all...
Can you drop your defenses and allow that "you" to get in?
Keep passin' the open windows...
Friday, August 17, 2007
Morning Edition - 8/17/07
Fast Forward; ‘Til Death Do Us Part
Stanley Reimer was stressed and tired, but also financially strapped when he decided his wife’s $700-$800 weekly medical bills were draining him as badly as her uterine cancer had deteriorated her to 75lbs. So, Reimer allegedly walked wife Criste to their fourth floor balcony and threw her over the side to her death below. Now, he’s being held at a Kansas City, Missouri prison on $250,000 bail pending his trail for murder.
Entrapment or Facilitation?
In criminal law, entrapment basically means that you are induced or persuaded by law enforcement to commit a crime you had no previous intent to commit. Now, 12 residents in the Rehoboth, Maryland beach area are trying to prove that they are being entrapped by local law enforcement and charged with lewd conduct, indecent exposure and other petty crimes. One group of gay men says that a 21-year old officer, dressed in shorts, approached them after the local bars closed at 1 a.m. As the officer made small-talk and flirtatious comments, several in the group became interested and found themselves dateless and with a court case when the officer allegedly labeled their reciprocal banter into an unsolicited advance incident. Local gay groups have not addressed the charges by the community that they are being targeted.
The ‘L’ Word
I’ve never been comfortable with tossing the ‘I love you’ line around freely. Even with friends, the line is said with great caution and only if I really feel it. I’m a firm believer that if I use the words in an empty attempt to ingratiate yourself with someone, the words will somehow lose their validity. I need them to mean something – to me and to those I say them to. That said, BD and I are dancing around the words like finalists on Fox’ aptly name show. A couple of days ago while at the gym I was pushing him really hard to complete his dip sets and when he came off the equipment he gave me a dirty look and said, “I’m hating you so much right now.” In an attempt to lighten the mood and as a knee-jerk reaction, I heard myself say, “Awww pa, don’t be mad, you know I love you.” I never looked in his direction again and simply jumped on the equipment to take on my last set of dips. Since then, I never mentioned the incident and hope that, unlike me, he’s not thinking of it. I want the first time that I say those words to him – and hopefully it will be soon – to be special (even sweaty) but not as a means to encourage him through a strenuous workout at the gym.
On Blast
In your opinion which of these constitutes entrapment:
1. A $100 bill is left at the bank counter when you approach the teller to make your transaction. It is clearly unattended and within your reach. You take it and place it in your pocket. You are arrested for bank robbery. (Entrapment?)
2. While using the bathroom, a man makes idle conversation with a man at the urinal next to his. He casually looks down at his urinal-mates penis, but never makes a comment about it. The urinal-mate reaches down and touches the man’s penis. (Entrapment?)
3. Your partner disrespects you in front of your friends and family while at a dinner party completely humiliating you. Since you are sitting adjacent to your partner, your reaction is to slap them across their face, busting their lip. They call the police and you’re arrested for assault. Your partner had the incident planned all along. (Entrapment?)
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Stanley Reimer was stressed and tired, but also financially strapped when he decided his wife’s $700-$800 weekly medical bills were draining him as badly as her uterine cancer had deteriorated her to 75lbs. So, Reimer allegedly walked wife Criste to their fourth floor balcony and threw her over the side to her death below. Now, he’s being held at a Kansas City, Missouri prison on $250,000 bail pending his trail for murder.
Entrapment or Facilitation?
In criminal law, entrapment basically means that you are induced or persuaded by law enforcement to commit a crime you had no previous intent to commit. Now, 12 residents in the Rehoboth, Maryland beach area are trying to prove that they are being entrapped by local law enforcement and charged with lewd conduct, indecent exposure and other petty crimes. One group of gay men says that a 21-year old officer, dressed in shorts, approached them after the local bars closed at 1 a.m. As the officer made small-talk and flirtatious comments, several in the group became interested and found themselves dateless and with a court case when the officer allegedly labeled their reciprocal banter into an unsolicited advance incident. Local gay groups have not addressed the charges by the community that they are being targeted.
The ‘L’ Word
I’ve never been comfortable with tossing the ‘I love you’ line around freely. Even with friends, the line is said with great caution and only if I really feel it. I’m a firm believer that if I use the words in an empty attempt to ingratiate yourself with someone, the words will somehow lose their validity. I need them to mean something – to me and to those I say them to. That said, BD and I are dancing around the words like finalists on Fox’ aptly name show. A couple of days ago while at the gym I was pushing him really hard to complete his dip sets and when he came off the equipment he gave me a dirty look and said, “I’m hating you so much right now.” In an attempt to lighten the mood and as a knee-jerk reaction, I heard myself say, “Awww pa, don’t be mad, you know I love you.” I never looked in his direction again and simply jumped on the equipment to take on my last set of dips. Since then, I never mentioned the incident and hope that, unlike me, he’s not thinking of it. I want the first time that I say those words to him – and hopefully it will be soon – to be special (even sweaty) but not as a means to encourage him through a strenuous workout at the gym.
On Blast
In your opinion which of these constitutes entrapment:
1. A $100 bill is left at the bank counter when you approach the teller to make your transaction. It is clearly unattended and within your reach. You take it and place it in your pocket. You are arrested for bank robbery. (Entrapment?)
2. While using the bathroom, a man makes idle conversation with a man at the urinal next to his. He casually looks down at his urinal-mates penis, but never makes a comment about it. The urinal-mate reaches down and touches the man’s penis. (Entrapment?)
3. Your partner disrespects you in front of your friends and family while at a dinner party completely humiliating you. Since you are sitting adjacent to your partner, your reaction is to slap them across their face, busting their lip. They call the police and you’re arrested for assault. Your partner had the incident planned all along. (Entrapment?)
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Afternoon Edition - 8/16/07
No Wire Hangers; Ever!
With the progression of me and BD’s romance comes the integration of our lives and our responsibilities. First, we manage to find time during the work day to see each other – even if it’s for a brief walk for a few blocks. Second, BD has joined my gym and we are on day three of our work-outs. The new endorphin burst has also added spice to our evening romps and we’re both encouraged to push harder at completing our routines. Last – but certainly not least – is the issue that gives BD his moniker – being a baby daddy. BD has sole custody of his 8-year old son and while our dating has grown in leaps-and-bounds, I’ve managed to skirt spending any quality time with the B- in BD. Our planned trip to Puerto Rico in October will be sans the kid, so BD proposed we take a long weekend to Disney as a threesome. I quickly asked, “Are you sure you’re ready for the three of us hanging together,” and he didn’t miss a beat by responding, “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t ready.” So, the very near future calls for my trying my hand at a completely new interaction – one that calls on my more selfless (m)paternal feelings and can make or break my bond with BD. As someone who always tries to make light of situations that scare me, I asked BD if he would mind if I called the kid – heretofore referred to as the Mini – Christina (a dig at my new role as Mommy Dearest) and he said he thinks I should just call the kid by his name. We both laughed and I said, “Hope he gives me the respect I would get from ANY stranger on the street.”
Long Story Short
Donya W. aka Papoose visited NYC from DC recently and I had an opportunity to share a cup of Starbucks coffee with her and catch up on life in DC, family and friends. The mother of four looked absolutely great and is proving to be Death-Becomes-Her like ageless. It was great seein’ her!
Angela M. of ABA and subsequently Marriott fame has announced that she is raising-up from the hotel giant and making her way back into downtown DC for a new gig. Congrats! Keep in touch as I’m struggling to get down to our nation’s capital in the next two months.
Robert B. – also a DC/ABAer – announced he is beginning his MBA program soon. The 40s, single father of two teen girls is tackling the task of raising his two nieces, working full time and keeping the DC social scene satiated…that last one was a dig, bruh.
Alan F. (my therapist and friend) is currently vacationing in sunny Florida, leaving me to fend for myself for the next eight days. It’s a well deserved vacation for a man who works hard and works hard at being a loyal pal. I miss ya’!
Mercy B. and I are exploring the idea of figure skating classes to begin this fall at Chelsea Piers here in NYC. I have my own skates and have been stretching and strengthening my core in preparation for my professional-style Bielman. Watch out Sasha Cohen!
On Blast
Children are not always as ignorant as they appear and many have a pretty good idea of what’s going on in their household and their environment. That said, in your opinion, how should a gay parent tackle the issue of dating as it relates to their children? Is it appropriate to explain gay dating to a minor – especially one less than 10 years of age? Is it best to keep the scene under wraps and hope the questions never come up?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
With the progression of me and BD’s romance comes the integration of our lives and our responsibilities. First, we manage to find time during the work day to see each other – even if it’s for a brief walk for a few blocks. Second, BD has joined my gym and we are on day three of our work-outs. The new endorphin burst has also added spice to our evening romps and we’re both encouraged to push harder at completing our routines. Last – but certainly not least – is the issue that gives BD his moniker – being a baby daddy. BD has sole custody of his 8-year old son and while our dating has grown in leaps-and-bounds, I’ve managed to skirt spending any quality time with the B- in BD. Our planned trip to Puerto Rico in October will be sans the kid, so BD proposed we take a long weekend to Disney as a threesome. I quickly asked, “Are you sure you’re ready for the three of us hanging together,” and he didn’t miss a beat by responding, “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t ready.” So, the very near future calls for my trying my hand at a completely new interaction – one that calls on my more selfless (m)paternal feelings and can make or break my bond with BD. As someone who always tries to make light of situations that scare me, I asked BD if he would mind if I called the kid – heretofore referred to as the Mini – Christina (a dig at my new role as Mommy Dearest) and he said he thinks I should just call the kid by his name. We both laughed and I said, “Hope he gives me the respect I would get from ANY stranger on the street.”
Long Story Short
Donya W. aka Papoose visited NYC from DC recently and I had an opportunity to share a cup of Starbucks coffee with her and catch up on life in DC, family and friends. The mother of four looked absolutely great and is proving to be Death-Becomes-Her like ageless. It was great seein’ her!
Angela M. of ABA and subsequently Marriott fame has announced that she is raising-up from the hotel giant and making her way back into downtown DC for a new gig. Congrats! Keep in touch as I’m struggling to get down to our nation’s capital in the next two months.
Robert B. – also a DC/ABAer – announced he is beginning his MBA program soon. The 40s, single father of two teen girls is tackling the task of raising his two nieces, working full time and keeping the DC social scene satiated…that last one was a dig, bruh.
Alan F. (my therapist and friend) is currently vacationing in sunny Florida, leaving me to fend for myself for the next eight days. It’s a well deserved vacation for a man who works hard and works hard at being a loyal pal. I miss ya’!
Mercy B. and I are exploring the idea of figure skating classes to begin this fall at Chelsea Piers here in NYC. I have my own skates and have been stretching and strengthening my core in preparation for my professional-style Bielman. Watch out Sasha Cohen!
On Blast
Children are not always as ignorant as they appear and many have a pretty good idea of what’s going on in their household and their environment. That said, in your opinion, how should a gay parent tackle the issue of dating as it relates to their children? Is it appropriate to explain gay dating to a minor – especially one less than 10 years of age? Is it best to keep the scene under wraps and hope the questions never come up?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Morning Edition - 8/14/07
Mummy Dust
Aging is a fact of life; just think of the alternative. That said, living a long life – I mean a truly long life – has as much to do with taking care of you as it does with genetics. Folks try to say that one thing or another will help keep you young or lasting longer, but the truth is, no one really knows the formula to longevity. Yone Minagawa, 114, died in her sleep recently. She was the oldest living person on record. She says she drank alcohol and ate sweets daily. She does, however, also mention getting her rest. All said, alcohol critics can put something in their pie-holes regarding the alcohol as a killer theory. I guess it’s also a case of everything-in-moderation, since the ancient Minagawa wasn’t exactly an alcoholic. Next in line, at just four months Minagawa’s junior, is American born Edna Parker of Indiana. Parker was born April 20, 1893.
Brilliant Gays a Minus; Straight Morons a Plus
More than 13,000 recruits have earned their GED and an opportunity to remain part of the military through Education Plus, a new program to help meet quotas for our military forces. The ironic thing is that qualified and degreed gay personnel serving in sensitive positions – such as translators and linguists – are immediately barred from serving. As the Iraq War continues, the military is doing everything to recruit personnel. I’m curious as to where they will turn to next in their quest to prevent gay men and women from serving. Hey, there’s always the prison system and mental institutions.
Gonna Make You Sweat
Today, BD and I will hit the gym together as we add working-out to our list of couple activities. Yesterday I gave BD a one-week free pass to my gym and he will be testing the waters to see if the facilities and working out together are a good fit. We’re hitting the nearby sports clothing store to pick up an outfit for his debut appearance; I suggested a black one-piece wrestler unitard, but he’s a conservative guy with loads of modesty. Besides, I think that may have been my own selfish voyeurism talking.
On Blast
What (if any) obstacles do you see with the U.S. military allowing gay men/women to serve hand-in-hand with their straight counterparts? Does, “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” even make sense in today’s society?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Aging is a fact of life; just think of the alternative. That said, living a long life – I mean a truly long life – has as much to do with taking care of you as it does with genetics. Folks try to say that one thing or another will help keep you young or lasting longer, but the truth is, no one really knows the formula to longevity. Yone Minagawa, 114, died in her sleep recently. She was the oldest living person on record. She says she drank alcohol and ate sweets daily. She does, however, also mention getting her rest. All said, alcohol critics can put something in their pie-holes regarding the alcohol as a killer theory. I guess it’s also a case of everything-in-moderation, since the ancient Minagawa wasn’t exactly an alcoholic. Next in line, at just four months Minagawa’s junior, is American born Edna Parker of Indiana. Parker was born April 20, 1893.
Brilliant Gays a Minus; Straight Morons a Plus
More than 13,000 recruits have earned their GED and an opportunity to remain part of the military through Education Plus, a new program to help meet quotas for our military forces. The ironic thing is that qualified and degreed gay personnel serving in sensitive positions – such as translators and linguists – are immediately barred from serving. As the Iraq War continues, the military is doing everything to recruit personnel. I’m curious as to where they will turn to next in their quest to prevent gay men and women from serving. Hey, there’s always the prison system and mental institutions.
Gonna Make You Sweat
Today, BD and I will hit the gym together as we add working-out to our list of couple activities. Yesterday I gave BD a one-week free pass to my gym and he will be testing the waters to see if the facilities and working out together are a good fit. We’re hitting the nearby sports clothing store to pick up an outfit for his debut appearance; I suggested a black one-piece wrestler unitard, but he’s a conservative guy with loads of modesty. Besides, I think that may have been my own selfish voyeurism talking.
On Blast
What (if any) obstacles do you see with the U.S. military allowing gay men/women to serve hand-in-hand with their straight counterparts? Does, “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” even make sense in today’s society?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Monday, August 13, 2007
Morning Edition - 8/13/07
Everything Done In the Dark
Since my not-so-squeaky-clean past, I now live in truth – especially when the laws that govern life dictate that somehow what we do in the dark will come to light. So, as I watched Leroy Greer’s NBC Today Show appearance this morning, I was embarrassed for him. Mainly because he hasn’t come to the realization that whether he’s wrong or right, he’ll ultimately be viewed as an ass. As the story goes, Greer was in the midst of a divorce when he decided to send his then girlfriend a dozen roses using 800-Flowers. He alleges, asking and double-checking that no receipts, information, etc. would be sent to his residence where he lived with his wife. To his horror, he says 800-Flowers sent a Thank-You card that was received by his wife. She called 800-Flowers asked for the receipt of the transaction and – BAM! Affair revealed! Now, Greer’s wife is adding infidelity to the divorce – a tidbit that has added another $300 thousand dollars to her settlement request. Greer is suing 800-Flowers for $1 million dollars citing pain-and-suffering among other charges.
Mixing Our Coloreds
BD and I have moved to stage 2 of this whole thing called dating and laughed as we planned to do our wash tonight. He asked if I would be mixing my color wash with his and I warmly agreed the idea seemed like a great one. So I’m packing my color clothes basket, some sandwiches and playing cards as we hit the Laundromat for a spin-cycle kind of evening. I warned him that I would be taking a Ziploc bag to keep one of his well-worn drawers for sleep-and-sniff value. Yeah, yeah…I’m a freak of sorts.
Toning for Sissies
I’m not one for heavy weight-lifting and never was a fan of bulging muscles – on myself or others. I do, however, love a toned body and concentrate on my cardio and the crunch, pull-ups (chin-ups) and very basic circuit training. I’ve begun increasing my weights on many of the circuit training and the intensity that I do the pull-up repetitions for. I’m pleased with the results, but my recent days off to vacation and enjoy my birthday have me slightly pained and winded. I’m back in there full force now and hope to get back on track to enjoying the workouts. BD called me this morning to mention that he’s considering joining my gym and I’m glad he’s considering working out. I enjoy his body all the same, but I think he’d feel more comfy with himself if he began breaking it down; besides, I’d like to see him huff-and-puff from another angle.
On Blast
Leroy Greer is not the only infidel in America, but he’s likely to find he will be tried in the court of public opinion before his case finds resolution.
Do you believe 800-Flowers is at fault for divulging info to the Greer household or do you believe the point is moot, since Greer was engaged in a deceptive affair?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Since my not-so-squeaky-clean past, I now live in truth – especially when the laws that govern life dictate that somehow what we do in the dark will come to light. So, as I watched Leroy Greer’s NBC Today Show appearance this morning, I was embarrassed for him. Mainly because he hasn’t come to the realization that whether he’s wrong or right, he’ll ultimately be viewed as an ass. As the story goes, Greer was in the midst of a divorce when he decided to send his then girlfriend a dozen roses using 800-Flowers. He alleges, asking and double-checking that no receipts, information, etc. would be sent to his residence where he lived with his wife. To his horror, he says 800-Flowers sent a Thank-You card that was received by his wife. She called 800-Flowers asked for the receipt of the transaction and – BAM! Affair revealed! Now, Greer’s wife is adding infidelity to the divorce – a tidbit that has added another $300 thousand dollars to her settlement request. Greer is suing 800-Flowers for $1 million dollars citing pain-and-suffering among other charges.
Mixing Our Coloreds
BD and I have moved to stage 2 of this whole thing called dating and laughed as we planned to do our wash tonight. He asked if I would be mixing my color wash with his and I warmly agreed the idea seemed like a great one. So I’m packing my color clothes basket, some sandwiches and playing cards as we hit the Laundromat for a spin-cycle kind of evening. I warned him that I would be taking a Ziploc bag to keep one of his well-worn drawers for sleep-and-sniff value. Yeah, yeah…I’m a freak of sorts.
Toning for Sissies
I’m not one for heavy weight-lifting and never was a fan of bulging muscles – on myself or others. I do, however, love a toned body and concentrate on my cardio and the crunch, pull-ups (chin-ups) and very basic circuit training. I’ve begun increasing my weights on many of the circuit training and the intensity that I do the pull-up repetitions for. I’m pleased with the results, but my recent days off to vacation and enjoy my birthday have me slightly pained and winded. I’m back in there full force now and hope to get back on track to enjoying the workouts. BD called me this morning to mention that he’s considering joining my gym and I’m glad he’s considering working out. I enjoy his body all the same, but I think he’d feel more comfy with himself if he began breaking it down; besides, I’d like to see him huff-and-puff from another angle.
On Blast
Leroy Greer is not the only infidel in America, but he’s likely to find he will be tried in the court of public opinion before his case finds resolution.
Do you believe 800-Flowers is at fault for divulging info to the Greer household or do you believe the point is moot, since Greer was engaged in a deceptive affair?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Friday, August 10, 2007
Morning Edition - 8/10/07
Utter Exhaustion
There is nothing wrong with going full speed; unless of course you lack moments of rest to allow yourself to rejuvenate. It is this behavior that has rendered me wasted. Beginning over a week ago, I’ve had no more than four hours of sleep on any given night – and even less as I pushed to make all the appointments I accepted. Ultimately, I’m worn. Since moving back to NYC I feel as though there just aren’t enough hours in the day to do everything that comes up. I’m not complaining. I have a fulfilling career, a rich love life and stimulating friends, but all of it can come to a screeching halt if I don’t – somehow – find time to get a minimum of 6-to-8 hours of rest each night. Just as I’ve made a commitment to work out five days a week and consciously live my life with zeal, I will commit to disconnect and recharge my batteries. As I crossed into the 38th year of my life I’m grateful for where I am and will work on showing my gratitude by respecting my body and the fact that I cannot sustain this pace much longer.
The Month of the Roar
In addition to my own birthday, some very special folks celebrate(d) their birthday this month. First, my baby sis Frances celebrates her 18th birthday. I pray the Lord protects her and she finds her way to a productive and self-respecting life. Next, Kim S. (ABA friend) celebrated her birthday just prior to mine – see, you thought I forgot, huh. Alex A., a colleague turned friend. Her exuberant love of life and self confidence has inspired me to look beyond aesthetics to allow my inner light to outshine my outer glow. Finally, my girl and voice-of-reason, Leona G. Leona came into my life close to 15 years ago when I was a diamond in the rough and needed guidance to polishing into someone who would have a short list of regrets in my life. Leona coached me on everything from professional prowess to expecting anything so that nothing in life would catch me off guard. We are proud Lions – well, Fran is actually a Virgo – but the fact remains that your birthday signals another reason for me to be thankful.
I’ll Be Your Friend; And I’ll Be Your Lover
It’s not easy finding a loyal friend and it appears even more difficult to find a lover who satisfies you mentally, emotionally and physically. I’ve been lucky to come across a man who is a true friend and an amazing lover. BD has managed to find the gap in my armor and has quickly occupied my heart. Whether we’re having soul-searching conversations, taking quick-sneak-work-day-shopping sprees or in the throes of passion for hours on end, BD always makes me feel like the most important person in the world to him. In turn, he makes it very easy to dedicate much of my free time to growing us. We’ve reached that point when we can readily admit how much we care and how much we miss each other when we’re separated. Further, we now understand that it isn’t where we’re going, but the trip itself; so each day we share an unconditional admiration and awe-inspired support for each other.
On Blast
What self-imposed changes will you make to create a better you this year?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
There is nothing wrong with going full speed; unless of course you lack moments of rest to allow yourself to rejuvenate. It is this behavior that has rendered me wasted. Beginning over a week ago, I’ve had no more than four hours of sleep on any given night – and even less as I pushed to make all the appointments I accepted. Ultimately, I’m worn. Since moving back to NYC I feel as though there just aren’t enough hours in the day to do everything that comes up. I’m not complaining. I have a fulfilling career, a rich love life and stimulating friends, but all of it can come to a screeching halt if I don’t – somehow – find time to get a minimum of 6-to-8 hours of rest each night. Just as I’ve made a commitment to work out five days a week and consciously live my life with zeal, I will commit to disconnect and recharge my batteries. As I crossed into the 38th year of my life I’m grateful for where I am and will work on showing my gratitude by respecting my body and the fact that I cannot sustain this pace much longer.
The Month of the Roar
In addition to my own birthday, some very special folks celebrate(d) their birthday this month. First, my baby sis Frances celebrates her 18th birthday. I pray the Lord protects her and she finds her way to a productive and self-respecting life. Next, Kim S. (ABA friend) celebrated her birthday just prior to mine – see, you thought I forgot, huh. Alex A., a colleague turned friend. Her exuberant love of life and self confidence has inspired me to look beyond aesthetics to allow my inner light to outshine my outer glow. Finally, my girl and voice-of-reason, Leona G. Leona came into my life close to 15 years ago when I was a diamond in the rough and needed guidance to polishing into someone who would have a short list of regrets in my life. Leona coached me on everything from professional prowess to expecting anything so that nothing in life would catch me off guard. We are proud Lions – well, Fran is actually a Virgo – but the fact remains that your birthday signals another reason for me to be thankful.
I’ll Be Your Friend; And I’ll Be Your Lover
It’s not easy finding a loyal friend and it appears even more difficult to find a lover who satisfies you mentally, emotionally and physically. I’ve been lucky to come across a man who is a true friend and an amazing lover. BD has managed to find the gap in my armor and has quickly occupied my heart. Whether we’re having soul-searching conversations, taking quick-sneak-work-day-shopping sprees or in the throes of passion for hours on end, BD always makes me feel like the most important person in the world to him. In turn, he makes it very easy to dedicate much of my free time to growing us. We’ve reached that point when we can readily admit how much we care and how much we miss each other when we’re separated. Further, we now understand that it isn’t where we’re going, but the trip itself; so each day we share an unconditional admiration and awe-inspired support for each other.
On Blast
What self-imposed changes will you make to create a better you this year?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Morning Edition - 8/8/07
Puerto Rico; A Story in Pictures (Part 1)
Puerto Rico was amazing and I'm still catching my breath! There are more pictures to come, but here is Part 1 in a three-part series of my Great-At-38 Puerto Rico birthday this past weekend. Thank you for all the email, blogger comments and telephone call birthday wishes!
On Blast
I don't know whether I'm too tired physically OR just tired of the unnecessary vanity, but I didn't feel the need to clean-up the Puerto Rico pics.
Do you feel digital photography has changed the reality of what folks look like when the final product is shared?
Keep passin' the open windows...
Puerto Rico was amazing and I'm still catching my breath! There are more pictures to come, but here is Part 1 in a three-part series of my Great-At-38 Puerto Rico birthday this past weekend. Thank you for all the email, blogger comments and telephone call birthday wishes!
I don't know whether I'm too tired physically OR just tired of the unnecessary vanity, but I didn't feel the need to clean-up the Puerto Rico pics.
Do you feel digital photography has changed the reality of what folks look like when the final product is shared?
Keep passin' the open windows...
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Evening Edition - 8/2/07
I’m Coming!
That title is so loaded (pun intended) but that’s how I feel today – I’m coming! I’m coming up on 38 wonderful years – and proud of it; I’m coming out of a dating slump that lasted much longer than it should’ve; I’m coming to the realization that I have an amazing group of friends who support me; I’m coming into myself and a complete comfort with who I am. Sunday’s the big day. I fly out of JFK tomorrow morning with my life-long friend Cas, my other friend Mercy will be joining me on Saturday and we’ll be celebrating Great-At-38 in Puerto Rico! I’m going home to pack, shave and decompress before my departure. This will be Cas’ first trip on a plane and we’ve already had a few discussions about breathing techniques. I’m taking the camera, several bathing suits and just a few basic outfits – it’s really not about the gear this trip. I want to lie on the beach, party and just be thankful.
Stroke Me or Else
I’m a true Leo. I am dramatic, passionate, possessive, yet a true kitty at heart. Stroke my ego good and you can get virtually anything. Don’t get it twisted though; I’m more than ready to do the same for those I care about. I believe in telling you that you look great, how good you make me feel and how much you mean to me. So it should come as no surprise that BD is basking in the glow that is the Leo affection. Playful, sensual and intense, Leo’s can make their partners feel like the Best Supporting Actor in a major production. The key is to remember that the role is – as mentioned – supporting. For Best Actor we need to look no further than the Leo. Recently, BD has been a little down about a few personal issues and he’s not stroking back the way he should. It’s at these times that my resolve waivers and I find myself weak to those encounters that peak my interest and stroke my ever-thirsty ego. Just yesterday, while in the locker room after a rough work-out I was approached by a Puerto Rican dude with a third-leg. LOL. Long Story L-O-N-G….I accepted the number, but don’t intend to follow-up…fo’ real! Anyway, I’m thinking my birthday Caribbean trip will give us that absence-makes-the-heart-grow-fonder feeling.
Weight Whoa
I had to laugh hard today. My parent’s NYC visit (they left this week) has left me 8 pounds heavier. I tried on my bathing suits and they all fit different – hey, when you’re only 5’7” tall, 8 pounds show – fast! The funny thing about this whole weight fiasco is that I was at my desired size (not necessarily weight) a month ago. As luck would have it, I will be snapping pics of the new fuller me while on vacation. Hey, I’m cool with it. When I return we’ll get back on point and work on those trouble spots.
On Blast
I don’t necessarily believe in astrology, but I pulled-up the compatibility profile for BD and me. Turns out Taurus and Leo can be quite a disaster! Screw those astrology predictions!
What is the most surprising thing you’ve read/heard about your astrological sign and would you agree that it is true about you?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
That title is so loaded (pun intended) but that’s how I feel today – I’m coming! I’m coming up on 38 wonderful years – and proud of it; I’m coming out of a dating slump that lasted much longer than it should’ve; I’m coming to the realization that I have an amazing group of friends who support me; I’m coming into myself and a complete comfort with who I am. Sunday’s the big day. I fly out of JFK tomorrow morning with my life-long friend Cas, my other friend Mercy will be joining me on Saturday and we’ll be celebrating Great-At-38 in Puerto Rico! I’m going home to pack, shave and decompress before my departure. This will be Cas’ first trip on a plane and we’ve already had a few discussions about breathing techniques. I’m taking the camera, several bathing suits and just a few basic outfits – it’s really not about the gear this trip. I want to lie on the beach, party and just be thankful.
Stroke Me or Else
I’m a true Leo. I am dramatic, passionate, possessive, yet a true kitty at heart. Stroke my ego good and you can get virtually anything. Don’t get it twisted though; I’m more than ready to do the same for those I care about. I believe in telling you that you look great, how good you make me feel and how much you mean to me. So it should come as no surprise that BD is basking in the glow that is the Leo affection. Playful, sensual and intense, Leo’s can make their partners feel like the Best Supporting Actor in a major production. The key is to remember that the role is – as mentioned – supporting. For Best Actor we need to look no further than the Leo. Recently, BD has been a little down about a few personal issues and he’s not stroking back the way he should. It’s at these times that my resolve waivers and I find myself weak to those encounters that peak my interest and stroke my ever-thirsty ego. Just yesterday, while in the locker room after a rough work-out I was approached by a Puerto Rican dude with a third-leg. LOL. Long Story L-O-N-G….I accepted the number, but don’t intend to follow-up…fo’ real! Anyway, I’m thinking my birthday Caribbean trip will give us that absence-makes-the-heart-grow-fonder feeling.
Weight Whoa
I had to laugh hard today. My parent’s NYC visit (they left this week) has left me 8 pounds heavier. I tried on my bathing suits and they all fit different – hey, when you’re only 5’7” tall, 8 pounds show – fast! The funny thing about this whole weight fiasco is that I was at my desired size (not necessarily weight) a month ago. As luck would have it, I will be snapping pics of the new fuller me while on vacation. Hey, I’m cool with it. When I return we’ll get back on point and work on those trouble spots.
On Blast
I don’t necessarily believe in astrology, but I pulled-up the compatibility profile for BD and me. Turns out Taurus and Leo can be quite a disaster! Screw those astrology predictions!
What is the most surprising thing you’ve read/heard about your astrological sign and would you agree that it is true about you?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Afternoon Edition - 8/1/07
DMV; The Reason for the New 8-Year Renewal Process in NYC
There is something to be said about the service delivery and lack of logical behavior at the Department of Motor Vehicles. Granted, it is a government agency where I’m sure we’re not paying Shakeema, Lolita, Tyreek, Jose and Susan top dollar for their stellar interpersonal skills and professionalism, but can they act as though they’re at the workplace getting paid to perform some type of duty? The long prelude is to openly speak about my experience at the DMV today. I arrived just as the doors opened and was promptly given directions to another location by the security guard, since the DMV location I visited would not process my out-of-state driver’s license and provide me with the Big Apple version. Not sooner than I walked through the doors of the next DMV location when Juwan – I ain’t even making this up, his green and white state issued work ID said, “Juwan Jackson” – asked me to grab a blue and white form and stand in the line to my right. “…but you don’t even know what I’m here for AND I filled-out an on-line form to avoid writing anything during my visit today,” I said. The condescending look I gave him had him step back and say, “Well, uh…bruh, whatchu here for?” I read the signs over his head and said, “I don’t need help thanks.” I walked over to the licensing area and waited for close to an hour. This wouldn’t have been as “serious” as it sounds, but there were less than 10 people in line ahead of me. Fatima, Jayqueeda, Fuquaisha and Lola all joked, openly flirted and ate, while we all stared from behind the ropes in disbelief. All their smiles and chatter disappeared once any customer approached them. They then became stone-faced, bad-weaved fools. When I reached Jayqueeda and furnished my paperwork for the license conversion, she looked me in the face and said, “Fix yo’ face boi…” When I didn’t crack a smile, she became very nervous and visibly irritated. “Well damn. You havin’ a bad day Mr. X?” she continued. “Not until I got here…uh… Jayqueeda [I squinted to read her state ID buried between her sagging breast]. Seems you ladies have a party all day long while working people wait for you guys to get your acts together,” I said in a hushed-I’ll-kill-your-kids tone. She backed up, tapped her itchin-and-flakin’ weave several times. “I’ll get your mean behind out of here as soon as possible,” she mumbled. I smiled and said, “That’s what I like to hear boo-boo. I’m not trying to wreck the flow here at the DMV club, but I have to make my own paper today.” She smiled that so-youz-a-nasty-little-b*tch-ass smile before completing my application process. When she handed me my completed (but picture-less) temporary license, I said, “You girls are a real class act. Normally it would take a night at the bowling alley to meet ladies of your stature. Thanks for all your upstanding help.” My face held a tight smirk that usually sends chills up the spines of serial killers, but Ms. Jay was not amused. “Go on before I have your license revoked,” she laughed. I began my sarcastic giggle before saying “…or I demand more cuts be made to DMV’s budget since they’re obviously overstaffed and under worked,” my laughter growing louder and dripping with sarcasm – I even tapped my right hand on her counter, while holding my stomach with my left hand to punctuate how much my own joke had tickled me. When I looked back at Jayqueeda, she was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Fuquaisha and by the chicken-necking going on she was apparently filling her in on our little exchange. I did the happy gay-boy wave to both the ghetto-girls of DMV, brought my shades down from my head to my eyes and gave Butch-queen-runway-stroll out of there. I won’t see those fools for another eight years…even then it will be too soon.
On Blast
As I recall, the Department of Motor Vehicles (or Motor Vehicles Association) isn’t much different in any state. In light of the flagrant misuse of perceived power, shouldn’t we as consumers DEMAND that our state do something to revamp the Department of Motor Vehicles so that they operate as any other money generating business does? How can we stop/change a state-run monopoly?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
There is something to be said about the service delivery and lack of logical behavior at the Department of Motor Vehicles. Granted, it is a government agency where I’m sure we’re not paying Shakeema, Lolita, Tyreek, Jose and Susan top dollar for their stellar interpersonal skills and professionalism, but can they act as though they’re at the workplace getting paid to perform some type of duty? The long prelude is to openly speak about my experience at the DMV today. I arrived just as the doors opened and was promptly given directions to another location by the security guard, since the DMV location I visited would not process my out-of-state driver’s license and provide me with the Big Apple version. Not sooner than I walked through the doors of the next DMV location when Juwan – I ain’t even making this up, his green and white state issued work ID said, “Juwan Jackson” – asked me to grab a blue and white form and stand in the line to my right. “…but you don’t even know what I’m here for AND I filled-out an on-line form to avoid writing anything during my visit today,” I said. The condescending look I gave him had him step back and say, “Well, uh…bruh, whatchu here for?” I read the signs over his head and said, “I don’t need help thanks.” I walked over to the licensing area and waited for close to an hour. This wouldn’t have been as “serious” as it sounds, but there were less than 10 people in line ahead of me. Fatima, Jayqueeda, Fuquaisha and Lola all joked, openly flirted and ate, while we all stared from behind the ropes in disbelief. All their smiles and chatter disappeared once any customer approached them. They then became stone-faced, bad-weaved fools. When I reached Jayqueeda and furnished my paperwork for the license conversion, she looked me in the face and said, “Fix yo’ face boi…” When I didn’t crack a smile, she became very nervous and visibly irritated. “Well damn. You havin’ a bad day Mr. X?” she continued. “Not until I got here…uh… Jayqueeda [I squinted to read her state ID buried between her sagging breast]. Seems you ladies have a party all day long while working people wait for you guys to get your acts together,” I said in a hushed-I’ll-kill-your-kids tone. She backed up, tapped her itchin-and-flakin’ weave several times. “I’ll get your mean behind out of here as soon as possible,” she mumbled. I smiled and said, “That’s what I like to hear boo-boo. I’m not trying to wreck the flow here at the DMV club, but I have to make my own paper today.” She smiled that so-youz-a-nasty-little-b*tch-ass smile before completing my application process. When she handed me my completed (but picture-less) temporary license, I said, “You girls are a real class act. Normally it would take a night at the bowling alley to meet ladies of your stature. Thanks for all your upstanding help.” My face held a tight smirk that usually sends chills up the spines of serial killers, but Ms. Jay was not amused. “Go on before I have your license revoked,” she laughed. I began my sarcastic giggle before saying “…or I demand more cuts be made to DMV’s budget since they’re obviously overstaffed and under worked,” my laughter growing louder and dripping with sarcasm – I even tapped my right hand on her counter, while holding my stomach with my left hand to punctuate how much my own joke had tickled me. When I looked back at Jayqueeda, she was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Fuquaisha and by the chicken-necking going on she was apparently filling her in on our little exchange. I did the happy gay-boy wave to both the ghetto-girls of DMV, brought my shades down from my head to my eyes and gave Butch-queen-runway-stroll out of there. I won’t see those fools for another eight years…even then it will be too soon.
On Blast
As I recall, the Department of Motor Vehicles (or Motor Vehicles Association) isn’t much different in any state. In light of the flagrant misuse of perceived power, shouldn’t we as consumers DEMAND that our state do something to revamp the Department of Motor Vehicles so that they operate as any other money generating business does? How can we stop/change a state-run monopoly?
Keep passin’ the open windows…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)