Decisions, Decisions…Baby or Not?

To many, adding a puppy to the family simply means finding a name like “Spot,” getting a couple of dog bowls and prepping some spot to keep the furry creature away from your good furniture. For others, it means having a new member of the family and the weight of that responsibility can be a bit daunting. Shucks, Busta will be 10-years old on May 5th and I still remember the day he became my baby. A robust Miniature Schnauzer, Busta does not appear to be an older guy and is as active as the day he arrived home. As I consider adding another baby to my household, I’m pondering a couple of things: First, the added responsibility. Dogs are not some entity that can just be put aside when you’re not feeling them. They require lots of attention and affection; not to mention money. Second, I’m a spontaneous kind-of guy and Busta has learned to adjust to my mood swings as well as my going on vacation and leaving him with his aunt or play-aunts. This is especially acceptable since everyone loves Busta and he’s fairly small at 13 pounds. The new kid under consideration is a Weimaraner. For those of you who are not dog lovers, Weims are hunting dogs and are known to be high-energy dogs. I specifically chose the breed so that I have a guy for morning runs and quite honestly, I hate a carbon copy of what everyone else has – even when it comes to dogs. The new little guy is presently 11 weeks and is already heavier than Busta at 20 pounds. I’ve been thorough in my research of the breed and how he would fit into my family. BD and the Minnie are not really dog people and my love for dogs is sort-of that eye-sore, pin-prick flaw that they find hard to turn a blind-eye to. All said, I love my boys and am weighing everything before making a final decision.

On Blast
From lowering blood pressure, to cutting the possibility of depression in half, dogs present magnificent benefits to life and health, but there is a dark side to dog ownership. Tell of your experience(s) with dog ownership.

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Happy Enough to Shut the F*ck Up

In the vein of the saying, “Better to be silent and be thought a fool, than to open your mouth and confirm it,” I’ve been quietly content of late. My spirit is in a great place and I’m consistently happy – in general. I have my health – and I’m no longer a smoker! Now, let’s be clear, I’m forever an addict that can’t “sleep” on cigarettes, but I have beat the initial physical withdrawl of quitting. This weekend I again pick-up where I left off and return to the gym. My goal is to work-out hard and feel great; I’m sure the aesthetic results of weight loss and muscle tone will soon follow. My relationship with BD is in a good place; I love him, he loves me and we’re appreciating every moment we have together. I still have my job and was even given a raise and small bonus at a time when the industry I work for is dropping folks like flies; professionally, I’m blessed. So, as I ticked-off these items from my “be-happy” list, I realized that I don’t have much to say. Add to my personal blessings the fact that we now have a President of color, a female Secretary of State and a hopeful American public and you can actually say that come what may, 2009 has gotten off to a great start. So, I may not be doing a great deal of posting to my blog, but I am doing some good living. I’m laughing a lot; I’m relaxed about my future and I’m even considering an addition to my family – a puppy. For the record, I still have Busta and he will be 10-years old this May, but I may just have a large breed pup join the household. Here’s to being silent – even if we’re thought a fool – because it’s so embarrassing to watch folks open their mouths and confirm it.

On Blast
What celebrity did you admire initially, only to be disappointed when they sat down for a one-on-one interview?

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Hypocrisy; the Catholic Church & Their New Delusion

Hypocrisy; the Catholic Church & Their New Delusion
The Vatican now says it is doing a better job of rooting-out homosexuals and teaching chastity and celibacy at its seminaries implying that it is now safer for boys and girls in parishes across the United States. After spending over $4 billion since 2002 to settle lawsuits brought by victims alleging abuse by priests – and worse, the long-stemming problem of the Catholic church turning a blind-eye to the accusations, the Vatican still does not recognize that Catholic priests are just a smaller representation of the general population and statistically, child molesters are more likely to be heterosexual regardless of the gender of their victims. Some scientific reports now mention that child molesters ‘don’t necessarily have a sexual orientation and that the term “homosexual molestation” actually refers to “male-to-male molestation” and does not accurately convey the more widely-accepted fact that the majority of child molesters have not developed the capacity for sex or attraction with adults and are therefore attracted to children’ – male, female or both. So while the Vatican celebrates a win – the effective discrimination and banning of gay priests from Catholic seminaries and parishes – child molesters who purport to be heterosexual can rest easy; the Catholic Church has banned the goat from the chicken coupe only to let the proverbial fox guard the joint.

On Blast
Should help organizations (such as Catholic Charities) that align with a specific religious sect be granted/awarded federal and state dollars? Do you believe in the separation of church and state?

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A Roundabout Way To Say, I Quit

Make It Through The Rain
At 15 I left home – was caught in the rain. I knew I could never go back. I’d confessed to my Reverend (who just happened to be my dad) that I was in fact gay – worse, that the mechanic he trusted to fix his car was working on his sons engine - and that I was mature enough to take care of myself. The scene is as vivid today as it was over 24 years ago; my father resting his face in his hands and a guttural cry that I never heard from him before rumbling in his chest. I pray that I never hear it again. I knew whence that cry came from; the depths of his heart and soul. His dreams of my marrying and leading what dreams he may have had for me evaporating before his eyes. I remember pivoting to leave and his anguish transforming to anger as he flung a bottle of Liquid Paper at me, my reflexes saving me from having at least four front teeth knocked clean out of my head. The deafening sound of that small hard plastic jar bore a hole in the wall, pieces crumbled down to my feet missing my face by inches. My tears joined the wall fragments on the floor that day. I made a small overnight bag, but really had nowhere to go. The man I professed was my love lived a state away and even worse lived with his mom. But youth and ignorance have a way of giving us the strength and fortitude to NOT see impending doom – rather an alternative to success. I stayed in school, partied 3-4 nights a week and found myself in the midst of a cast of characters never to be seen again. They became my new family. My odd-end jobs on the books supplanted by my tail-end job at the end of many nights. As Kate Hepburn said to Redbook once, “I never complained, never explained.” I did what I had to do to survive and my rewards were only as gratifying as some of my encounters were depreciating. It can be said that the prayers of my parents and loved ones kept me safe – well, as safe as I could’ve been on the streets of NYC – and with each new person I met a new door was opened. The Lord gave me the charm to move ahead, learn – and fast – how to blend. Blend with the ‘haves’ and appear like I had always been there. Soon, I was working for fashion giant Womens Wear Daily (WWD) in NYC and as luck would have it I began dating one of the editors of the fashion giant. His unfortunate alcoholism proved our demise, but not before he taught me what was truly important and how to always be above the fray. It wasn’t long before I had to choose – play boy-toy to someone who I could learn from OR common piece for the next sex starved New Yorker that wanted to sample young Puerto Rican goods. Let’s just say, this boy was no fool…it was the toy box for me. Like all dysfunctional things, our odd roommate arrangement came to an end after his drunken visits to my room proved more than I could bare. I remember getting up from my bed in the middle of the night once to find myself pinned under his arm, the smell of alcohol permeating through the room. I shoved a cigarette in his mouth, grabbed my jeans and t-shirt from the chair and turned only to light his cig. As I wiped at my eyes and was about to walk out the front door, he called to me, cigarette in hand; when I turned, standing at the threshold he took a deep drag and asked, ”You were going to let a drunken man lie in bed with a lit cigarette and walk out? I remember the calm smile that lifted both sides of my mouth as I said, “Yes, I was hoping for the best…my best.” With that I turned and walked out. He never entered my room again. A few weeks later we both agreed that it would be best that I move on. So where is this going you ask? Simple, I’m smoking my last cigarette tonight. I’m announcing it because in the dramatic Oprah-esque tale that is living in your truth, I’m addicted and I have to stop. I look back at the addicted man I’ve become and like my hopes for the editor/roommate, I pray he’s charred when I look back; That the addicted soul that shares this shell lives no more; That the strong-hold and surprise won’t exist. Maybe I’m just fooling myself, but somehow, I’ve grown as tired of the addict-within as I did of the alcoholic editor that thought he had a live in doll. My body has been used by the nicotine for the last time. The first-puff of nicotine now gone, I’m left with the smell and taste of a stale cigarette. It will be really hard, but I recognize that like many things in life, the smell and feel of them are littering my psyche and not just my physique. The addict thought he was getting ahead but really, the cigarettes like the editor have served their purpose. The next chapter awaits.

On Blast
From smoking to be mature and cool-to smoking in the office- to please put that out in the building- to walk away from the building to smoke that-to everyone being the next poster boy and crusader for the smoke cessation movement-I’m tired. I will not fight for something that is basically betraying me from the inside. What difficult addiction/habit can you 1) admit to having 2) work to release?

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Leaving Your Mark On The World

Leaving Your Mark On The World
If one of you %$#$% asks if this is a video of me getting ready for work, I will bust you straight in the mouth…LOL
…but seriously, I watch Paris Is Burning and Dorian Corey – one of my old, house-mother favorites - and sigh in awe of how street-smart and hard-lived they were; seems like they did leave some of us with some great words of wisdom. Her take on each of us leaving our mark on the world by just getting through it was one of those priceless pearls of wisdom.

On Blast
Long after you’re gone, what do you want folks to remember about you?

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Lucky In Love; Refuse To Be Lonely

Lucky In Love; Refuse To Be Lonely
It’s 2009 – the year I come into the BIG 4-0. As I was catching up on some of my favorite bloggers I noticed the persistent theme of elusive love. As I think back to my love-life I am grateful that there was NEVER (and I assure you I’m not gloating) a time that I actually wanted a relationship and wasn’t in one. As a matter of fact, one of the more consistent themes in my life has been that I spent a considerable amount of time in long term relationships. BD isn’t the first long-term relationship that I’ve engaged in –although my prayer is that he’ll be the ONE that is with me for the rest of my life. I guess I say all of this to say that even in those moments when I was a single man, I used those times to get to know me; resolve my issues (and believe me, there were plenty of them); and enjoy great times with my friends. It was while in one of these periods that I met BD. We dated off-and-on for over a year-and-a-half before either of us realized how much we really cared about each other and wanted to be exclusive. During that first year we dated other people simultaneously and it wasn’t even a thought to stress each other or ask questions about what the other was doing when we weren’t together. Which brings me to the real issue at hand…Sometimes, we spend too much time worrying about not having a relationship or what we’re doing wrong or even what’s out there, to be someone enjoyable enough to want to be around. I’ve always had this concept that I can do bad by myself (I know…not original or new) but I also apply it to mean that I don’t need a brotha dragging me down – not my finances, my mood or my spirit. If you’ve become a hum-drum-drag, it’s harder to find someone to want to tolerate your melodramatic ass at the onset. Now I’ll tell you that I’m pretty high-strung and filled with colorful emotions, but I’m not one to bring all those zany tid-bits to the surface when I want a potential suitor to get to know how humorous, fun-loving, spontaneous and caring I am. I mean, don’t you want to buy a car and have it look good, drive like a cheetah and be fuel-efficient before you find out that repairs will cost you and arm-and-a-leg? Chances are that after you fall in love with this bad-ass ride you’ll be more comfortable investing the money in your car because it’s proven itself worthy of your every penny. Now if you drive that bitch off the showroom and the first thing you have to do is go up into a repair shop for a hefty tune-up, you’re likely to turn around and drive that heap right back to the dealership. All to say, loosen-up and enjoy your relationships – friendships included – and let the natural progression of things happen. You know there are still times that I wonder if BD and I will last forever. It’s at those times that I take a deep breath and appreciate today; because whether we’re together for life or not doesn’t minimize how much we love each other today and chances are, for life. The relationship part…well, that’s the part that we have to nurture every day. Here’s to loving ourselves first in ’09 and becoming the kind of people others gravitate to.

On Blast
What bummer will you admit to pulling out of your emotional bag too soon when dating?

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